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GEOEGE WASHINGTON. [G. Stuart. 



THE l^lh'E 



OF 



GEORGE WASHINGTON 



BY 



WASHINGTON IRVING, 



FOUR VOLUMES CONDENSED IN ONE. 

POPULAJl EDITION ILLUSTRATED. 



NEW YORK: 

WM. L. ALLISON, PUBLISHER. 
1889. 



WASHINGTCiiJlAlvA 



Copyright 1S88, 

BV 

WM. L. ALLISON. 



EXCHANGE 

5 
JUN 12 1944 

Serial Record Divrsion 
TiiiLi^fai7efCen^;iS3 

Copy 



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PREFACE. 



The idea of writing a life of Washington entered at an early day 
into the author's mind, and he had long looked forward to it as 
the crowning effort of his literary career. It was especially pressed 
upon his attention nearly thirty years ago while he was in Europe, 
by a proposition of the late Mr. Archibald Constable, the eminent 
publisher of Edinburgh, and he resolved to undertake it as soon 
as he should return to the United States, and be within reach 
of the necessary documents. Various circumstances occurred to 
prevent him from carrying this resolution into prompt effect. It 
remained, however, a cherished purpose of his heart, which he has 
at length, though somewhat tardily, accomplished. He is con- 
scious of his own short-comings and of the splendid achievements 
of oratory of which the character of Washington has recently been 
made the theme. Grateful, however, for the kindly disposition 
which has greeted each successive volume, and with a profound 
sense of the indulgence he has experienced from the public through 
a long literary career, now extending through more than half a 
century, he resigns his last volume to its fate, with a feeling of sat- 
isfaction that he has at length reached the close of his task, and 
with the comforting assurance that it has been with him a labor of 
love, and as such has to a certain degree carried with it its own 
reward. 
SuNNYsiDE, April, iSsg, Washington Irving. ' 

Publisher's Note. — This edition of Irving's Life of Wash- 
ington has been very carefully prepared,— and nothing has been 
excluded which bears directly upon the subject. It is undoubt- 
edly the fullest and most graphically portrayed life of the Father 
OF his Country ever written, and is at the same time a detailed 
and deeply interesting History of the American Revolution. 
The chief merit of this work is perhaps the prominence with which 
it brings out in the character of Washington its strongest and 
rarest ornaments: — its judicial serenity maintained amidst the fierce 



4 PREFA CE.—ILL USTRA TIONS. 

conflicts of a Revolution ; the composure of the Areopagus carried 
into the struggles of Thermopylae. 

"Calm, but stern, like one whom no compassion could weaken, 

Neither could doubt deter, nor violent impulses alter ; 

Lord of his own resolves ; of his own heart absolute master." 

SOUTHEY (of Washington) in his Vision of Judgme7it. 

«'The sobriety, the self-command, the perfect soundness of 
judgment, the perfect rectitude of intention — of these the history 
of revolutions furnishes no parallel, or furnishes a parallel in 
Washington alone." — Lord Macaulay, Essay on John Hamp- 

PEN. 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Page. 

PORTRAIT OF WASHINGTON, BY GILBERT STUART. . Frontispiece. 

PORTRAIT OF WILLIAM PENN 50 

SIGNING OF THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE, BY 

TRUMBULL ICO 

PORTRAIT OF THOMAS JEFFERSON I20 

PORTRAIT OF THE MARQUIS DE LAFAYETTE I9O 

PORTRAIT OF THE BARON STEUBEN 20O 

PORTRAIT OF THOMAS PAINE * 25O 

PORTRAIT OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN 260 

WASHINGTON PREPARING TO CROSS THE DELAWARE 280 

WASHINGTON CROSSING THE DELAWARE, BY E. LENTZE. . . . 3OO 
BADGE OF THE ORDER OF CINCINNATUS 5QO 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



CHAPTER I. 

GENEALOGY OF THE WASHINGTON FAMILY. 

The Washington family is of an ancient English stock, the 
genealogy of which has been traced up to the century immediately 
succeeding the Conquest. At that time it was in possession of 
landed estates and manorial privileges in the county of Durham, 
such as were enjoyed only by those, or their descendants, who had 
come over from Normandy with the Conqueror, or fought under 
his standard. When William the Conqueror laid waste the whole 
country north of the Humbei", in punishment of the insurrection of 
the Northumbrians, he apportioned the estates among his followers, 
and advanced Normans and other foreigners to the principal eccles- 
iastical dignities. One of the most wealthy and important sees was 
that of Durham. Hither had been transported the bones of St. 
Cuthbert from their original shrine at Lindisfarne, when it was rav- 
aged by the Danes. That saint, says Camden, was esteemed by 
princes and gentry a titular saint against the Scots. His shrine, 
therefore, had been held in peculiar reverence by the Saxons, and 
the see of Durham endowed with extraordinary privileges. William 
continued and increased those privileges. He needed a powerful 
adherent on this frontier to keep the restless Northumbrians in 
order, and check Scottish invasion; and no doubt considered an 
enlightened ecclesiastic, appointed by the crown, a safer depositary 
of such power than an hereditary noble. Having placed a noble 
and learned native of Loraine in the diocese, therefore, he erected 
it into a palatinate, over which the bishop, as Count Palatine, had 
temporal, as well as spiritual jurisdiction. He built a strong castle 
for his protection, and to serve as a barrier against the Northern 
foe. He made him lord high-admiral of the sea and waters adjoin- 
ing his palatinate, — lord warden of the marches, and conservator 
of the league between England and Scotland. Thenceforth, we 
are told, the prelates of Durham owned no earthly superior within 
their diocese, but continued for centuries to exercise every right 
attached to an independent sovereign. 

The bishop, as Count Palatine, lived in almost royal state and 
splendor. He had his lay chancellor, chamberlains, secretaries, 
steward, treasurer, master of the horse, and a host of minor officers. 
Still he was under feudal obligations. All landed property in those 



6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

warlike times, implied military service. Bishops and abbots,' 
equally with great barons who held estates immediately of the crown » 
were obhged, when required, to furnish the king with armed men 
in proportion to their domains; but they had their feudatories under 
them to aid them in this service. The princely prelate of Durham 
had his barons and knights, who held estates of him on feudal 
tenure, and were bound to serve him in peace and war. They sat 
occasionally in his councils, gave martial splendor to his court, and 
were obliged to have horse and weapon ready for service, for they 
lived in a belligerent neighborhood, disturbed occasionally by civil 
war, and often by Scottish foray. When the banner of St. Cuth- 
bert, the royal standard of the province, was displayed, no armed 
feudatory of the bishop could refuse to take the field. Some of 
these prelates, in token of the warlike duties of their diocese, 
engraved on their seals a knight on horseback armed at all points, 
brandishing in one hand a sword, and holding forth in the other 
the arms of the see. Among the knights who held estates in the 
palatinate on these warlike conditions, was Wilham de Hertburn, 
the progenitor of the Washingtons. His Norman name of William 
would seem to point out his national descent; and the family long 
continued to have Norman names of baptism. The surname of 
De Hertburn was taken from a village on the palatinate which he 
held of the bishop in knight's fee; probably the same now called 
Hartburn on the banks of the Tees. It had become a custom 
among the Norman families of rank about the time of the Conquest, 
to take surnames from their castles or estates; it was not until some 
time afterward that surnames became generally assumed by the 
people. 

The first actual mention we find of the family is in the Bolden 
Book, a record of all the lands appertaining to the diocese in 1183. 
In this it is stated that William de Hertburn had exchanged his 
village of Hertburn for the manor and village of Wessyngton, like- 
wise in the diocese; paying the bishop a quit-rent of four pounds, 
and engaging to attend him with two greyhounds in grand hunts, 
and to furnish a man at arms whenever military aid should be 
required of the palatinate. The family changed its surname with 
its estate, and thenceforward assumed that of De Wessyngton. 
The condition of military service attached to its manor will be 
found to have been often exacted, nor was the service in the grand 
hunt an idle form. Hunting came next to war in those days, as 
the occupation of the nobility and gentry. The clergy engaged in 
it equally with the laity. The stipulations with the Seignior of 
Wessyngton show how strictly the rights of the chase were defined. 
All the game taken by him in going to the forest belonged to the 
bishop; all taken on returning belonged to himself. The names 
of Bondo de Wessyngton and William his son appear on charters 
of land, granted in 1257 to religious houses. Soon after occurred 
the wars of the barons, in which the throne of Henry HI. was 
shaken by the De Mountforts. The chivalry of the palatinate ral- 
lied under the royal standard. On the list of loyal knights who 
fought for their sovereign in the disastrous battle of Lewes (1264), 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 7 

in which the king was taken prisoner, we find the name of William 
Weshington, of Weshington. 

In the reign of Edward III. we find the De Wessyngtons still 
mingling in chivalrous scenes. The name of Sir Stephen de 
Wessyngton appears on a list of knights (noble chevahers) who 
were to tilt at a tournament at Dunstable in 1334. He bore for his 
device a golden rose on an azure field. He was soon called to 
exercise his arms on a sterner field. In 1346, Edward and his son, 
the Black Prince, being absent with the armies in France, king 
David of Scotland invaded Northumberland with a powerful army, 
Queen Philippa, who had remained in England as regent, imme- 
diately took the field, calling the northern prelates and nobles to join 
her standard. They all hastened to obey. Among the prelates was 
Hatfield, the Bishop of Durham. The sacred banner of St. Cuth- 
bert was again displayed, and the chivalry of the palatinate 
assisted at the famous battle of Nevil's cross, near Durham, in 
which the Scottish army was defeated and king David taken pris- 
oner. Queen Philippa hastened with a victorious train to cross the 
sea at Dover, and join king Edward in his camp before Calais. 
The prelate of Durham accompanied her. His military train con- 
sisted of three bannerets, forty-eight knights, one hundred and 
sixty-four esquires, and eighty archers, on horseback. They all 
arrived to witness the surrender of Calais (1346), on which occa- 
sion queen Philippa distinguished herself by her noble interference 
in saving the lives of its patriot citizens. Such were the warlike 
and stately scenes in which the De Wessyngtons were called to 
mingle by their feudal duties as knights of the palatinate. A few 
years after the last event (1350), William at that time lord of the 
manor of Wessyngton, had license to settle it and the village upon 
himself, his wife, and " his own right heirs." He died in 1367, and 
his son and heir, William, succeeded to the estate. The latter is 
mentioned under the name of Sir William de Weschington as one 
of the knights who sat in the privy council of the county during 
the episcopate of John Fordham. During this time the whole force 
of the palatinate was roused to pursue a foray of Scots, under Sir 
William Douglas, who, having ravaged the country, were return- 
ing laden with spoil. It was a fruit of the feud between the Doug- 
lases and the Percys. The marauders were overtaken by Hotspur 
Percy and then took place the battle of Otterbourne, in which 
Percy was taken prisoner and Douglas slain. 

For upward of two hundred years the De Wessyngtons had now 
sat in the councils of the palatinate; had mingled with horse and 
hound in the stately hunts of its prelates, and followed the banner 
of St. Cuthbert to the field ; but Sir William, just mentioned, was 
the last of the family that rendered this feudal service. He was 
the last male of the line to which the inheritance of the manor, by 
the license granted to his father, was confined. It passed away 
from the De Wessyngtons, after his death, by the marriage of his 
only daughter and heir, Dionisia, with Sir William Temple of Stud- 
ley. By the year 1400 it had become the property of the Blayke- 
stons. But though the name of De W'essyngton no longer 



8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

figured on the chivalrous roll of the palatinate, it continued for a 
time to flourish in the cloisters. In the year 1416, John de 
Wessyngton was elected prior of the Benedictine convent, attached 
to the cathedral. The monks of this convent had been licensed 
by Pope Gregory VII. to perform the solemn duties of the cathe- 
dral in place of secular clergy, and William the Conqueror had 
ordained that the priors of Durham should enjoy all the liberties, 
dignities and honors of abbots ; should hold their lands and churches 
in their own hands and free disposition, and have the abbot's seat on 
the left side of the choir — thus taking rank of every one but the 
bishop. In the course of three centuries and upward, which had 
since elapsed, these honors and privileges had been subject to 
reported dispute and encroachment, and the prior had nearly been 
elbowed out of the abbot's chair by the arch-deacon. John de 
Wessyngton was not a man to submit tamely to such infringements 
of his rights. He forthwith set himself up as the champion of his 
priory, and in a learned tract, de Juribus ct Posses sionibus 
Ecclesice Dunelni, established the validity of the long controverted 
claims, and fixed himself firmly in the abbot's chair. His success 
in this controversy gained him much renown among his brethren 
of the cowl, and in 1426 he presided at the general chapter of the 
order of St. Benedict, held at Northampton. The stout prior of 
Durham had other disputes with the bishop and the secular clergy 
touching his ecclesiastical functions, in which he was equally vic- 
torious, and several tracts remain in manuscript in the dean and 
chapter's library ; weapons hung up in the church armory as 
memorials of his polemical battles. Finally, after fighting divers 
good fights for the honor of his priory, and filling the abbot's chair 
for thirty years, he died, to use an ancient phrase, "in all the odor 
of sanctity," in 1446, and was buried like a soldier on his battle- 
field, at the door of the north aisle of his church, near to the altar 
of St. Benedict. On his tombstone was an inscription in brass, 
now unfortunately obliterated, which may have set forth the valiant 
deeds of this Washington of the cloisters. By this time the primi- 
tive stock of the De Wessyngtons had separated into divers 
branches, holding estates in various parts of England; some dis- 
tinguishing themselves in the learned professions, others receiving 
knighthood for public services. Their names are to be found hon- 
orably recorded in county histories, or engraved on monuments in 
time-worn churches and cathedrals, those garnering places of Eng- 
lish worthies. By degrees the seignorial sign of de disappeared 
from before the family surname, which also varied from Wessyng- 
ton to Wassington, Wasshington, and finally, to Washington. A 
parish in the county of Durham bears the name as last written, and in 
this probably the ancient manor of Wessyngton was situated. There 
is another parish of the name in the county of Sussex. The branch 
of the family to which our W^ashington immediately belongs sprang 
from Laurence Washington, Esquire, of Gray's Inn, son of John 
Washington, of Warton in Lancashire. This Laurence Washing- 
ton was for some time mayor of Northampton, and on the dissolu- 
tion of the priories by Henry VIII. he received, in 1538, a grant of 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. g 

the manor of Sulgrave, in Northamptonshire, with other lands in 
the vicinity, all confiscated property formerly belonging to the mon- 
astery of St. Andrew's. Sulgrave remained in the family until 
1620, and was commonly called " Washington's manor." One of 
the direct descendants of the grantee of Sulgrave was Sir William 
Washington, of Packington, in the county of Kent. He married a 
sister of George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, the unfortunate 
favorite of Charles I. This may have attached the Sulgrave 
Washingtons to the Stuart dynasty, to which they adhered loyally 
and generously throughout all its vicissitudes. One of the family. 
Lieutenant Colonel James Washington, took up arms in the cause 
of king Charles, and lost his life at the seige of Pontefract castle. 
Another of the Sulgrave line, Sir Henry Washington, son and heir 
of Sir William, before mentioned, exhibited in the civil wars the 
old chivalrous spirit of the knights of the palatinate. He served 
under prince Rupert at the storming of Bristol, in 1643, and when 
the assailants were beaten off at every point, he broke in with a 
handful of infantry at a weak part of the wall, made room for the 
horse to follow, and opened a path to victory. 

We have little note of the Sulgrave branch of the family after 
the death of Charles I. and the exile of his successor. England, 
during the protectorate, became an uncomfortable residence to such 
as had signalized themselves as adherents to the house of Stuart. 
In 1655, an attempt at a general insurrection drew on them the 
vengeance of Cromwell. Many of their party who had no share in 
the conspiracy, yet sought refuge in other lands, where they might 
live free from molestation. This may have been the case with two 
brothers, John and Andrew Washington, great-grandsons of the 
grantee of Sulgrave, and uncles of Sir Henry, the gallant defender 
of Worcester. John had for some time resided at South Cave, in 
the East Riding of Yorkshire ; but now emigrated with his brother 
to Virginia ; which colony, from its allegiance to the exiled mon- 
arch and the Anglican Church had become a favorite resort of the 
Cavaliers. The brothers arrived in Virginia in 1657, and pur- 
chased lands in Westmoreland County, on the northern neck, 
between the Potomac and Rappahannock rivers. John married a 
Miss Anne Pope, of the same county, and took up his residence on 
Bridges Creek, near where it falls into the Potomac. He became 
an extensive planter, and, in process of time, a magistrate and 
member of the House of Burgesses. Having a spark of the old 
military fire of the family, we find him, as Colonel Washington, 
leading the Virginia forces, in cooperation with those of Maryland, 
against a band of Seneca Indians, who were ravaging the settle- 
ments along the Potomac. In honor of his public services and 
private virtues the parish in which he resided was called after him, 
and still bears the name of Washington. He hes buried in a vault 
on Bridges Creek which, for generations, was the family place of 
sepulture. The estate continued in the family. His grandson 
Augustine, the father of our Washington, was born there in 1694. 
He was twice married; first (April 20th, 171 5), to Jane, daughter 
of Caleb Butler, Esq., of Westmoreland County, by whom he had 



IG LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

four children, of whom only two, Lawrence and Augustine, sur- 
vived the years of childhood ; their mother died November 24th, 
1728, and was buried in the family vault. On the 6th of March, 
1730, he married in second nuptials, Mary, the daughter of Colonel 
Ball, a young and beautiful girl, said to be the belle of the Northern 
Neck. By her he had five sons, George, Samuel, John, Augustine, 
and Charles ; and two daughters, Elizabeth, or Betty, as she was 
commonly called, and Mildred, who died in infancy. George, the 
eldest, the subject of this biography, was born on the 22d of Feb- 
ruary (nth, O. S.), 1732, in the homestead on Bridges Creek. This 
house commanded a view over many miles of the Potomac, and 
the opposite shore of Maryland. It had probably been purchased 
with the property, and was one of the primitive farm-houses of 
Virginia. The roof was steep, and sloped down into low projecting 
eaves. It had four rooms on the ground floor, and others in the 
attic, and an immense chimney at each end. Not a vestige of it 
remains. Two or three decayed fig trees, with shrubs and vines, 
linger about the place, and here and there a flower grown wild 
serves "to mark where a garden has been." Such at least, was 
the case a few years since ; but these may have likewise passed 
away. A stone (placed there by George W. P. Custis, Esq.) marks 
the site of the house, and an inscription denotes its being the birth- 
place of Washington. We have entered with some minuteness 
into this genealogical detail ; tracing the family step by step through 
the pages of historical documents for upward of six centuries ; and 
we have been tempted to do so by the documentary proofs it gives 
of the lineal and enduring worth of the race. We have shown 
that, for many generations, and through a variety of eventful 
scenes, it has maintained an equality of fortune and respectabihty, 
and whenever brought to the test has acquitted itself with honor 
and loyalty. Hereditary rank may be an illusion ; but hereditary 
virtue gives a patent of innate nobleness beyond all the blazonry 
of the Herald's College. 



CHAPTER II. 

HOME OF WASHINGTON'S BOYHOOD. 

Not long after the birth of George, his father removed to an 

estate in Stafford County, opposite Fredericksburg. The house was 
similar in style to the one at Bridges Creek, and stood on a rising 
ground overlooking a meadow which bordered the Rappahannock. 
This was the home of George's boyhood; the meadow was his 
play-ground, and the scene of his early athledc sports ; but this 
home, like that in which he was born, has disappeared ; the site is 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. il 

only to be traced by fragments of bricks, china, and earthenware. 
In those days the means of instruction in Virginia were limited, and 
it was the custom among the wealthy planters to send their sons to 
England to complete their education. This was done by Augustine 
Washington with his eldest son Lawrence, then about fifteen years 
of age, and whom he no doubt considered the future head of the 
family. George was yet in early childhood ; as his intellect dawned 
he received the rudiments of education in the best establishment 
for the purpose that the neighborhood afforded. It was what was 
called, in popular parlance, an " old field school-house; " humble 
enough in its pretensions, and kept by one of his father's tenants 
named Hobby, who moreover was sexton of the parish. The 
instruction doled out by him must have been of the simplest kind 
— reading, writing, and ciphering, perhaps ; but George had the 
benefit of mental and moral culture at home, from an excellent 
father. Several traditional anecdotes have been given to the world, 
somewhat prolix and trite, but illustrative of the familiar and prac- 
tical manner in which Augustine Washington, in the daily inter- 
course of domestic life, impressed the ductije mind of his child 
with high maxims of religion and virtue, and imbued him with a 
spirit of justice and generosity, and above all a scrupulous love of 
truth. When George was about seven or eight years old his 
brother Lawrence returned from England, a well-educated and 
accomplished youth. There was a difference of fourteen years in 
their ages, which may have been one cause of the strong attach- 
ment which took place between them. Lawrence looked down 
with a protecting eye upon the boy whose dawning intelligence and 
perfect rectitude won his regard ; while George looked up to his 
manly and cultivated brother as a model in mind and manners. 
We call particular attention to this brotherly interchange of affec- 
tion, from the influence it had on all the future career of the subject 
of this memoir. Lawrence Washington had something of the old 
military spirit of the family, and circumstances soon called it into 
action. Spanish depredations on British commerce had recently 
provoked reprisals. Admiral Vernon, commander-in-chief in the 
West Indies, had accordingly captured Porto Bello, on the Isthmus 
of Darien. The Spaniards were preparing to revenge the blow ; 
the French were fitting out ships to aid them. Troops were em- 
barked in England for another campaign in the West Indies ; a 
regiment of four battalions was to be raised in the colonies and sent 
to join them at Jamaica. There was a sudden outbreak of military 
ardor in the province ; the sound of drum and fife was heard in 
the villages with the parade of recruiting parties. Lawrence 
Washington, now twenty-two years of age, caught the infection. 
He obtained a captain's commission in the newly raised regiment, 
and embarked with it for the West Indies in 1740. He served in 
the joint expeditions of Admiral Vernon and General Wentworth, in 
the land forces commanded by the latter, and acquired the friend- 
ship and confidence of both of those officers. He was present at 
the siege of Carthagena, when it was bombarded by the fleet, and 
when the troops attempted to escalade the citadel. It was an in- 



12 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

effectual attack; the ships could not get near enough to throw their 
shells into the town, and the scahng ladders proved too short. That 
part of the attack, however, with which Lawrence was concerned, 
distinguished itself by its bravery. The troops sustained unflinch- 
ing a destructive fire for several hours, and at length retired with 
honor, their small force having sustained a loss of about six hun- 
dred in killed and wounded. We have here the secret of that 
martial spirit so often cited of George in his boyish days. He had 
seen his brother fitted out for the wars. He had heard by letter 
and otherwise of the warlike scenes in which he was mingling. All 
his amusements took a military turn. He made soldiers of his 
schoolmates ; they had their mimic parades, reviews, and sham 
fights ; a boy named William Bustle was sometimes his competitor, 
but George was commander-in-chief of Hobby's school. 

Lawrence Washington returned home in the autumn of 1742, the 
campaigns in the West Indies being ended, and Admiral Vernon 
and General Wentworth being recalled to England. It was the 
intention of Lawrence to rejoin his regiment in that country, and 
seek promotion in the army, but circumstances completely altered 
his plans. He formed an attachment to Anne, the eldest daughter 
of the Honorable William Fairfax, of Fairfax County ; his addresses 
were well received, and they became engaged. Their nuptials 
were delayed by the sudden and untimely death of his father, 
which took place on the 12th of April, 1743, after a short but severe 
attack of gout in the stomach, and when but forty-nine years of 
age. George had been absent from home on a visit during his 
father's illness, and just returned in time to receive a parting look 
of affection. Augustine Washington left large possessions, distrib- 
uted by will among his children. To Lawrence, the estate on the 
banks of the Potomac, with other real property, and several shares 
in iron works. To Augustine, the second son by the first marriage, 
the old homestead and estate in Westmoreland. The children by 
the second marriage were severally well provided for, and George, 
when he became of age, was to have the house and lands on the 
Rappahannock. In the month of July the marriage of Lawrence 
with Miss Fairfax took place. He now gave up all thoughts of 
foreign service, and settled himself on his estate on the banks of 
the Potomac, to which he gave the name of Mount Vernon, in 
honor of the admiral. Augustine took up his abode at the home- 
stead on Bridges Creek, and married Anne, daughter and co-heiress 
of William Aylett, Esquire, of W^estmoreland County. George, 
now eleven years of age, and the other children of the second mar- 
riage, had been left under the guardianship of their mother, to 
whom was intrusted the proceeds of all their property until they 
should severally come of age. She proved herself worthy of the 
trust. Endowed with plain, direct good sense, thorough conscien- 
tiousness, and prompt decision, she governed her family strictly, 
but kindly, exacting deference while she inspired affection. George, 
being her eldest son, was thought to be her favorite, yet she never 
gave him undue preference, and the implicit deference exacted 
from him in childhood continued to be habitually observed by him 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 13 

to the day of her death. He inherited from her a high temper and 
a spirit of command, but her early precepts and example taught 
him to restrain and govern that temper, and to square his conduct 
on the exact principles of equity and justice. Tradition gives an 
interesting picture of the widow, with her little flock gathered round 
her, as was her daily wont, reading to them lessons of religion and 
morality out of some standard work. Her favorite volume was Sir 
Matthew Hale's Contemplations, moral and divine. The admir- 
able maxims therein contained, for outward action as well as self- 
government, sank deep into the mind of George, and, doubtless, 
had a great influence in forming his character. They certainly 
were exemplified in his conduct throughout life. This mother's 
manual, bearing his mother's name, Mary Washington, written 
with her own hand, was ever preserved by him with filial care, and 
may still be seen in the archives of Mount Vernon. A precious 
document ! Let those who wish to know the moral foundation of 
his character consult its pages. Having no longer the benefit of a 
father's instructions at home, and the scope of tuition of Hobby, the 
sexton, being too limited for the growing wants of his pupil, George 
was now sent to reside with Augustine Washington, at Bridges 
Creek, and enjoy the benefit of a superior school in that neighbor- 
hood kept by a Mr. WilHams. His education, however, was plain 
and practical. He never attempted the learned languages, nor 
manifested any inclination for rhetoric or belles-lettres. His object, 
or the object of his friends, seems to have been confined to fitting 
him for ordinary business. His manuscript school books still exist, 
and are models of neatness and accuracy. One of them, it is true, 
a ciphering book, preserved in the library at Mount Vernon, has 
some school-boy attempts at calligraphy : nondescript birds, exe- 
cuted with a flourish of the pen, or _ profiles of faces, probably 
intended for those of his schoolmates ; the rest are all grave and 
business-like. Before he was thirteen years of age he had copied 
into a volume forms for all kinds of mercantile and legal papers ; 
bills of exchange, notes of hand, deeds, bonds, and the Hke. This 
early self-tuition gave him throughout life a lawyer's skill in draft- 
ing documents, and a merchant's exactness in keeping accounts; 
so that all the concerns of his various estates ; his dealings with his 
domestic steward and foreign agents ; his accounts with govern- 
ment, and all his financial transactions are to this day to be seen 
posted up in books, in his own handwriting, monuments of his 
method and unwearied accuracy. He was a self-disciplinarian in 
physical as well as mental matters, and practiced himself in all 
kinds of athletic exercises, such as running, leaping, wrestling, 
pitching quoits and tossing bars. His frame even in infancy had 
been large and powerful, and he now excelled most of his play- 
mates in contests of agility and strength. As a proof of his muscu- 
lar power, a place is still pointed out at Fredericksburg, near the 
lower ferry, where, when a boy, he flung a stone across the Rap- 
pahannock. In horsemanship too he already excelled, and was 
ready to back, and able to manage the most fiery steed. Tradi- 
tional anecdotes remain of his achievements in this respect. Above 



,4 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

all, his inherent probity and the principles of justice on which he 
regulated all his conduct, even at this early period of life, were 
soon appreciated by his schoolmates; he was referred to as an 
umpire in their disputes, and his decisions were never reversed. 
As he had formerly been military chieftain, he was now legislator 
of the school ; thus displaying in boyhood a type of the future 
man. 

The attachment of Lawrence Washington to his brother George 
seems to have acquired additional strength and tenderness on their 
father's death ; he now took a truly paternal interest in his concerns, 
and had him as frequently as possible a guest at Mount Vernon. 
Lawrence had deservedly become a popular and leading personage 
in the country. He was a member of the House of Burgesses, and 
Adjutant General of the district, with the rank of major, and a 
regular salary. A frequent sojourn with him brought George into 
familiar intercourse with the family of his father-in-law, the Hon. 
William Fairfax, who resided at a beautiful seat called Belvoir, a 
few miles below Mount Vernon, and on the same woody ridge bor- 
dering the Potomac. An intimacy with a family like this, in which 
the frankness and simphcity of rural and colonial life were united 
with European refinement, could not but have a beneficial effect in 
moulding the character and manners of a somewhat homebred 
schoolboy. It was probably his intercourse with them, and his 
ambition to acquit himself well in their society, that set him upon 
compiling a code of morals and manners which still exists in a manu- 
script in his own handwriting, entitled " rules for behavior in com- 
pany and conversation." It is extremely minute and circumstan- 
tial. Some of the rules for personal deportment extend to such 
trivial matters, and are so quaint and formal, as almost to provoke 
a smile ; but in the main, a better manual of conduct could not be 
put into the hands of a youth. The whole code evinces that rigid 
propriety and self control to which he subjected himself, and by 
which he brought all the impulses of a somewhat ardent temper 
under conscientious government. Other influences were brought 
to bear on George during his visit at Mount Vernon. His brother 
Lawrence still retained some of his military inclinations, fostered 
no doubt by his post of Adjutant General. William Fairfax had 
been a soldier, and in many trying scenes. Some of Lawrence's 
comrades of the provincial regiment, who had served with him in 
the West Indies, were occasional visitors at Mount Vernon ; or a 
ship of war, possibly one of Vernon's old fleet, would anchor in the 
Potomac, and its officers be welcome guests at the tables of Law- 
rence and his father-in-law. Thus military scenes on sea and shore 
would become the topics of conversation. The capture of Porto 
Bello ; the bombardment of Carthagena ; old stories of cruisings in 
the East and West Indies, and campaigns against the pirates. We 
can picture to ourselves George, a grave and earnest boy, with an 
expanding intellect, and deep-seated passion for enterprise, listen- 
ing to such conversations with a kindling spirit and a growing 
desire for military hfe. In this way most probably was produced 
that desire to enter the navy which he evinced when about fourteen 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 15 

years of age. The opportunity for gratifying it appeared at hand. 
Ships of war frequented the colonies, and at times, as we have 
hinted, were anchored in the Potomac. The inclination was en- 
couraged by Lawrence Washington and Mr. Fairfax. Lawrence 
retained pleasant recollections of his cruisings in the fleet of Ad- 
miral Vernon, and considered the naval service a popular path to 
fame and fortune. George was at a suitable age to enter the navy. 
The great difficulty was to procure the assent of his mother. She 
was brought, however, to acquiesce; a midshipman's warrant was 
obtained, and it is even said that the luggage of the youth was 
actually on board of a man of war, anchored in the river just below 
Mount Vernon. At the eleventh hour the mother's heart faltered. 
This was her eldest born. A son, whose strong and steadfast 
character promised to be a support to herself and a protection to her 
other children. The thought of his being completely severed from 
her and exposed to the hardships and perils of a boisterous pro- 
fession overcame even her resolute mind, and at her urgent remon- 
strances the nautical scheme was given up. To school, therefore, 
George returned, and continued his studies for nearly two years 
longer, devoting himself especially to mathematics, and accom- 
phshing himself in those branches calculated to fit him either for 
civil or military service. Among these, one of the most important 
in the actual state of the country was land surveying. In this he 
schooled himself thoroughly, using the highest processes of the 
art; making surveys about the neighborhood, and keeping regular 
field books, some of which we have examined, in which the 
boundaries and measurements of the fields surveyed were carefully 
entered, and diagrams made, with a neatness and exactness as if 
the whole related to important land transactions instead of being 
mere school exercises. Thus, in his earliest days, there was per- 
severance and completeness in all his undertakings. Nothing was 
left half done, or done in a hurried and slovenly manner. The 
habit of mind thus cultivated continued throughout life ; so that 
however complicated his tasks and overwhelming his cares, in the 
arduous and hazardous situations in which he was often placed, he 
found time to do everything, and to do it well. He had acquired the 
magic of method, which of itself works wonders. In one of these 
manuscript memorials of his practical studies and exercises, we 
have come upon some documents singularly in contrast with all 
that we have just cited, and, with his apparently unromantic 
character. In a word, there are evidences in his own handwriting, 
that, before he was fifteen years of age, he had conceived a passion 
for some unknown beauty, so serious as to disturb his otherwise 
well regulated mind, and to make him really unhappy. Why this 
juvenile attachment was a source of unhappiness we have no 
positive means of ascertaining. Perhaps the object of it may have 
considered him a mere school-boy, and treated him as such, or his 
own shyness may have been in his way, and his "rules for be- 
havior and conversation " may as yet have sat awkwardly on him, 
and rendered him formal and ungainly when he most sought to 
please. Even in later years he was apt to be silent and embar- 



i6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

rassed in female society. " He was a very bashful young man,'* 
said an old lady, whom he used to visit when they were both in their 
nonage. " I used often to wish that he would talk more." What- 
ever may have been the reason, this early attachment seems to 
have been a source of poignant discomfort to him. It clung to 
him after he took a final leave of school in the autumn of 1747, 
and went to reside with his brother Lawrence at Mount Vernon. 
Here he continued his mathematical studies and his practice in 
surveying, disturbed at times by recurrences of his unlucky passion. 
Though by no means of a poetical temperament the waste pages 
of his journal betray several attempts to pour forth his amorous 
sorrows in verse. They are mere common-place rhymes, such as 
lovers at his age are apt to write, in which he bewails his "poor 
restless heart, wounded by Cupid's dart," and "bleeding for one 
who remains pitiless of his griefs and woes." The tenor of some 
of his verses induces us to beheve that he never told his love ; but, 
as we have already surmised, was prevented by his bashfulness. 
"Ah, woe is me, that I should love and conceal; 
Long have I wished and never dare reveal." 

It is difficult to reconcile one's self to the idea of the cool and 
sedate Washington, the great champion of American liberty, a woe- 
worn lover in his youthful days, "sighing hke a furnace," and 
inditing plaintive verses about the groves of Mount Vernon. We 
are glad of an opportunity, however, of penetrating to his native 
feelings, and finding that under his studied decorum and reserve 
he had a heart of flesh throbbing with the warm impulses of human 
nature. 

The merits of Washington were known and appreciated by the 
Fairfax family. Though not quite sixteen years of age, he no 
longer seemed a boy, nor was he treated as such. Tall, athletic, 
and manly for his years, his early self-training, and the code of 
conduct he had devised, gave a gravity and decision to his con- 
duct; his frankness and modesty inspired cordial regard, and the 
rnelancholy, of which he speaks, may have produced a softness in 
his manner calculated to win favor in ladies' eyes. According to 
his own account, the female society by which he was surrounded 
had a soothing effect on that melancholy. To one whom he 
addresses as his dear friend Robin, he writes : "My residence is at 
present at his lordship's, where I might, was my heart disengaged, 
pass my time very pleasantly, as there's a very agreeable young 
lady fives in the same house (Col. George Fairfax's wife's sister); 
but as that's only adding fuel to fire, it makes me the more uneasy, 
for by often and unavoidably being in company with her, revives 
my former passion for your Lowland Beauty ; whereas was I to five 
more retired from young women, I might in some measure alleviate 
my sorrows, by burying that chaste and troublesome passion in the 
grave of obfivion," &c. The object of this early passion is not 
positively known. Tradition states that the "lowland beauty" was 
a Miss Grimes, of Westmoreland, afterward Mrs. Lee, and mother 
of General Henry Lee, who figured in revolutionary history as Light 
Horse Harry, and was always a favorite with Washington, prob- 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 17 

ably from the recollections of his early tenderness for the mother. 
Whatever may have been the soothing effect of the female society 
by which he was surrounded at Belvoir, the youth found a more 
effectual remedy for his love melancholy in the company of Lord 
Fairfax. His lordship was a stanch fox-hunter, and kept horses 
and hounds in the English style. The hunting season had arrived. 
The neighborhood abounded with sport; but fox-hunting in Vir- 
ginia required bold and skillful horsemanship. He found Wash- 
ington as bold as himself in the saddle, and as eager to follow the 
hounds. He forthwith took him into peculiar favor, made him his 
hunting companion; and it was probably under the tuition of this 
hard-riding old nobleman that the youth imbibed that fondness for 
the chase for which he was afterward remarked. Their fox-hunting 
intercourse was attended with more important results. His lord- 
ship's possessions beyond the Blue Ridge had never been regularly 
settled nor surveyed. Lawless intruders — squatters, as they were 
called — were planting themselves along the finest streams and in 
the richest valleys, and virtually taking possession of the country. 
It was the anxious desire of Lord Fairfax to have these lands 
examined, surveyed, and portioned out into lots, preparatory to 
ejecting these interlopers or bringing them to reasonable terms. In 
Washington, notwithstanding his youth, he beheld one fit for the 
task — having noticed the exercises in surveying which he kept up 
while at Mount Vernon, and the aptness and exactness with which 
every process was executed. He was well calculated, too, by his 
vigor and activity, his courage and hardihood, to cope with the 
wild country to be surveyed, and with its still wilder inhabitants. 
The proposition had only to be offered to Washington to be eagerly 
accepted. It was the very kind of occupation for which he had 
been diligently training himself. AH* the preparations required by 
one of his simple habits were soon made, and in a very few days 
he was ready for his first expedition into the wilderness. 

It was in the month of March (1748), and just after he had com- 
pleted his sixteenth year, that Washington set out on horseback on 
this surveying expedition, in company with George William Fairfax. 
Their route lay by Ashley's Gap, a pass through the Blue Ridge, 
that beautiful hne of mountains which, as yet, almost formed the 
western frontier of inhabited Virginia. Winter still lingered on the 
tops of the mountains, whence melting snows sent down torrents, 
which swelled the rivers and occasionally rendered them almost 
impassable. Spring, however, was softening the lower parts of the 
landscape and smiHng in the valleys. They entered the great val- 
ley of Virginia, where it is about twenty-five miles wide; a lovely 
and temperate region, diversified by gentle swells and slopes, 
admirably adapted to cultivation. The Blue Ridge bounds it on 
one side, the North Mountain, a ridge of the Alleganies, on the 
other ; while through it flows that bright and abounding river, 
which, on account of its surpassing beauty, was named by the 
Indians the Shenandoah — that is to say, "the daughter of the 
stars." The first station of the travelers was at a kind of lodge in 
the wilderness, where the steward or land-bailiff of Lord Fairfax 



1 8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

resided, with such negroes as were required for farming purposes, 
and which Washington terms " his lordship's quarter." It was 
situated not far from the Shenandoah, and about twelve miles from 
the site of the present town of Winchester. In a diary kept with 
his usual minuteness, Washington speaks with dehght of the beauty 
of the trees and the richness of the land in the neighborhood, and 
of his riding through a noble grove of sugar maples on the banks 
of the Shenandoah ; and at the present day, the magnificence of 
the forests which still exist in this favored region justifies his eulo- 
gium. He looked around, however, with an eye to the profitable 
rather than the poetical. The gleam of poetry and romance, 
inspired by his "lowland beauty," occurs no more. The real 
business of life has commenced with him. His diary affords no 
food for fancy. Everything is practical. The qualities of the soil, 
the relative value of sites and locahties, are faithfully recorded. In 
these his early habits of observation and his exercises in surveying 
had already made him a proficient. His surveys commenced in 
the lower part of the valley, some distance above the junction of 
the Shenandoah with the Potomac, and extended for many miles 
along the former river. Here and there partial "clearings" had 
been made by squatters and hardy pioneers, and their rude hus- 
bandry had produced abundant crops of grain, hemp, and tobacco. 
Such was his first experience of life in the wilderness; he soon, 
however, accustomed himself to " rough it," and adapt himself to 
fare of all kinds, though he generally preferred a bivouac before a 
fire, in the open air, to the accommodations of a woodman's cabin. 
Proceeding down the valley to the banks of the Potomac, they 
found that river so much swollen by the rain which had fallen 
among the Alleganies, as to be unfordable. To while away the 
time until it should subside, they made an excursion to examine 
certain warm springs in a valley among the mountains, since called 
the Berkeley Springs. There they camped out at night, under the 
stars; the diary makes no complaint of their accommodations ; and 
their camping-ground is now known as Bath, one of the favorite 
watering-places of Virginia. One of the warm springs was subse- 
quently appropriated by Lord Fairfax to his own use, and still 
bears his name. After watching in vain for the river to subside, 
they procured a canoe, on which they crossed to the Maryland 
side ; swimming their horses. A weary day's ride of forty miles 
up the left side of the river, in a continual rain, and over what 
Washington pronounces the worst road ever trod by man or beast, 
brought them to the house of a Colonel Cresap, opposite the south 
branch of the Potomac, where they put up for the night. Here 
they were detained three or four days by inclement weather. On 
the second day they were surprised by the appearance of a war 
party of thirty Indians, bearing a scalp as a trophy. A little liquor 
procured the spectacle of a war-dance. A large space was cleared, 
and a fire made in the centre, round which the warriors took their 
seats. The principal orator made a speech, reciting their recent 
exploits, and rousing them to triumph. One of the warriors started 
up as if from sleep, and began a series of movements, half- 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 19 

grotesque, half-tragical ; the rest followed. For music, one savage 
drummed on a deerskin, stretched over a pot half filled with water ; 
another rattled a gourd, containing a few shot, and decorated with 
a horse's tail. Their strange outcries, and uncouth forms and 
garbs, seen by the glare of the fire, and their whoops and yells, 
made them appear more like demons than human beings. All this 
savage gambol was no novelty to Washington's companions, expe- 
rienced in frontier Ufe ; but to the youth, fresh from school, it was 
a strange spectacle, which he sat contemplating with deep interest, 
and carefully noted down in his journal. It will be found that he 
soon made himself acquainted with the savage character, and 
became expert at dealing with these inhabitants of the wilderness. 
From this encampment the party proceeded to the mouth of Pat- 
terson's Creek, where they recrossed the river in a canoe, swim- 
ming their horses as before. More than two weeks were now 
passed by them in the wild mountainous region of Frederick 
County, and about the south branch of the Potomac, surveying 
lands and laying out lots, camped out the greater part of the time, 
and subsisting on wild turkey and other game. Each one was his 
own cook ; forked sticks served for spits, and chips of wood for 
dishes. The weather was unsettled. At one time their tent was 
blown down ; at another they were driven out of it by smoke ; now 
they were drenched with rain, and now the straw on which Wash- 
ington was sleeping caught fire, and he was awakened by a com- 
panion just in time to escape a scorching. The only variety to 
this camp life was a supper at the house of one Solomon Hedge, 
Esquire, his majesty's justice of the peace, where there were no 
forks at table, nor any knives, but such as the guests brought in 
their pockets. During their surveys they were followed by num- 
bers of people, some of them squatters, anxious, doubtless, to pro- 
cure a cheap title to the land they had appropriated ; others, Ger- 
man emigrants, with their wives and children, seeking a new home 
in the wilderness. Most of the latter could not speak English ; but 
when spoken to, answered in their native tongue. They appeared 
to Washington ignorant as Indians, and uncouth, but " merry and 
full of antic tricks." Such were the progenitors of the sturdy yeo- 
manry now inhabiting those parts, many of whom still preserve 
their strong German characteristics. " I have not slept above three 
or four nights in a bed," writes Washington to one of his young 
friends at home, "but after walking a good deal all the day I have 
lain down before the fire upon a little straw or fodder, or a bear 
skin, whichever was to be had, with man, wife, and children, like 
dogs and cats ; and happy is he who gets the berth nearest the 
fire." Having completed his surveys, he set forth from the south 
branch of the Potomac on his return homeward ; crossed the 
mountains to the great Cacapehon ; traversed the Shenandoah val- 
ley; passed through the Blue Ridge, and on the 12th of April 
found himself once more at Mount Vernon. For his service he 
received, according to his note-book, a doubloon per day when 
actively employed, and sometimes six pistoles. 

The manner in which he had acquitted himself in this arduous 



20 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

expedition, and his accounts of the country surveyed, gave great 
satisfaction to Lord Fairfax, who shortly afterward moved across 
the Bhie Ridge, and took up his residence at the place heretofore 
noted as his "quarters." Here he laid out a manor, containing 
ten thousand acres of arable grazing lands, vast meadows, and 
noble forests, and projected a spacious manor house, giving to the 
place the name of Greenway Court. It was probably through the 
influence of Lord Fairfax that Washington received the appoint- 
ment of public surveyor. This conferred authority on his surveys, 
and entitled them to be recorded in the county offices, and so 
invariably correct have these surveys been found that, to this day, 
wherever any of them stand on record, they receive imphcit credit. 
For three years he continued in this occupation, which proved 
extremely profitable, from the vast extent of country to be surveyed 
and the very limited number of pubHc surveyors. It made him 
acquainted, also, with the country, the nature of the soil in various 
parts, and the value of localities; all which proved advantageous 
to him in his purchases in after years. Many of the finest parts of 
the Shenandoah valley are yet owned by members of the Wash- 
ington family. While thus employed for months at a time survey- 
ing the lands beyond the Blue Ridge, he was often an inmate of 
Greenway Court. The projected manor house was never even 
commenced. On a green knoll overshadowed by trees was a long 
stone building one story in height, with dormer windows, two 
wooden belfries, chimneys studded with swallow and martin coops, 
and a roof sloping down in the old Virginia fashion, into low pro- 
jecting eaves that formed a veranda the whole length of the house. 
It was probably the house originally occupied by his steward or 
land agent, but was now devoted to hospitable purposes, and the 
reception of guests. As to his lordship, it was one of his many 
eccentricities, that he never slept in the main edifice, but lodged 
apart in a wooden house not much above twelve feet square. In a 
small building was his office, where quitrents were given, deeds 
drawn, and business transacted with his tenants. About the knoll 
were out-houses for his numerous servants, black and white, with 
stables for saddle-horses and hunters, and kennels for his hounds, 
for his lordship retained his keen hunting propensides, and the 
neighborhood abounded in game. Indians, half-breeds, and 
leathern-clad woodsmen loitered about the place, and partook of 
the abundance of the kitchen. His lordship's table was plentiful 
but plain, and served in the English fashion. Here Washington 
had full opportunity, in the proper seasons, of indulging his fond- 
ness for field sports, and once more accompanying his lordship in 
the chase. The conversation of Lord Fairfax, too, was full of 
interest and instruction to an inexperienced youth, from his culti- 
vated talents, his literary taste, and his past intercourse with the 
best society of Europe, and its most distinguished authors. He 
had brought books, too, with him into the wilderness, and from 
Washington's diary we find that during his sojourn here he was 
diligently reading the history of England, and the essays of the 
Spectator. Such was Greenway Court in these its palmy days. 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 21 

We visited it recently and found it tottering to its fall, mouldering 
in the midst of a magnificent country, where nature still flourishes 
in full luxuriance and beauty. Three or four years were thus 
passed by Washington, the greater part of the time beyond the Blue 
Ridge, but occasionally with his brother Lawrence at Mount Ver- 
non. His rugged and toilsome expeditions in the mountains, 
among rude scenes and rough people, inured him to hardships, and 
made him apt at expedients ; while his intercourse with his cultivated 
brother, and with the various members of the Fairfax family, had 
a happy effect in toning up his mind and manners, and counteract- 
ing the careless and self-indulgent habitudes of the wilderness. 

During the time of Washington's surveying campaigns among 
the mountains, a grand colonizing scheme had been set on foot, 
destined to enUst him in hardy enterprises, and in some degree to 
shape the course of his future fortunes. The treaty of peace con- 
cluded at Aix-la-Chapelle, which had put an end to the general war 
of Europe, had left undefined the boundaries between the British 
and French possessions in America ; a singular remissness, consider- 
ing that they had long been a subject in dispute, and a cause of fre- 
quent conflicts in the colonies. Immense regions were still claimed 
by both nations, and each was now eager to forestall the other by 
getting possession of them, and strengthening its claim by occu- 
pancy. The most desirable of those regions lay west of the Alle- 
gany Mountains, extending from the lakes to the Ohio, and 
embracing the valley of that river and its tributary streams. An 
immense territory, possessing a salubrious chmate, fertile soil, fine 
hunting and fishing grounds, and facilities by lakes and rivers for 
a vast internal commerce. The French claimed all this country 
quite to the Allegany Mountains by the right of discovery. In 
1673, Padre Marquette, with his companion, Joliet, of Quebec, 
both subjects of the crown of France, had passed down the Mis- 
sissippi in a canoe quite to the Arkansas, thereby, according to an 
alleged maxim in the law of nations, establishing the right of their 
sovereign, not merely to the river so discovered and its adjacent 
lands, but to all the country drained by its tributary streams, of 
which the Ohio was one ; a claim, the ramifications of which might 
be spread, like the meshes of a web, over half the continent. To 
this inimitable claim the English opposed a right derived, at second 
hand, from a traditionary Indian conquest. A treaty, they said, 
had been made at Lancaster, in 1744, between commissioners from 
Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia, and the Iroquois, or Six 
Nations, whereby the latter, for four hundred pounds, gave up all 
right and title to the land west of the Allegany Mountains, even to 
the Mississippi, which land, according- to their traditions, had been 
conquered by their forefathers. It is undoubtedly true that such 
a treaty was made and such a pretended transfer of title did take 
place, under the influence of spirituous hquors ; but it is equally 
true that the Indians in question did not, at the time, possess an 
acre of the land conveyed ; and that the tribes actually in posses- 
sion scoffed at their pretensions, and claimed the country as their 
own from time immemorial. Such were the shadowy foundations 



22 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

of claims which the two nations were determined to maintam to 
the uttermost, and which ripened into a series of wars, ending in a 
loss to England of a great part of her American possessions, and 
to France of the whole. As yet in the region in question there 
was not a single white settlement. Mixed Iroquois tribes of Uela- 
wares, Shawnees, and Mingoes, had migrated into it early in the 
century from the f^rench settlements in Canada, and taken up their 
abodes about the Ohio and its branches. The French pretended 
to hold them under their protection ; but their allegiance, if ever 
acknowledged, had been sapped of late years by the influx of fur 
traders from Pennsylvania. These were often rough, lawless men ; 
half Indians in dress and habits, prone to brawls, and sometimes 
deadly in their feuds. They were generally in the employ of some 
trader, who, at the head of his retainers and a string of pack- 
horses, would make his way over mountains and through forests to 
the banks of the Ohio, establish his headquarters in some Indian 
town, and disperse his followers to traffic among the hamlets, hunt- 
ing-camps and wigwams, exchanging blankets, gaudy colored 
cloth, trinketry, powder, shot, and rum, for valuable furs and 
peltry. In this way a lucrative trade with these western tribes was 
springing up and becoming monopolized by the Pennsylvanians. 
To secure a paticipation in this trade, and to gain a foothold in this 
desirable region, became now the wish of some of the most intelli- 
gent and enterprising men of Virginia and Maryland, among whom 
were Lawrence and Augustine Washington. With these views 
they projected a scheme, in connection with John Hanbury, a 
wealthy London merchant, to obtain a grant of land from the 
British government, for the purpose of forming settlements or 
colonies beyond the AUeganies. Government readily counte- 
nanced a scheme by w^hich French encroachments might be fore- 
stalled, and prompt and quiet possession secured of the great Ohio 
valley. An association was accordingly chartered in 1749, by the 
name of "the Ohio Company," and five hundred thousand acres 
of land was granted to it west of the AUeganies ; between the 
Monongahela and Kanawha rivers ; though part of the land might 
be taken up north of the Ohio, should it be deemed expedient. 
The company vvere to pay no quitrent for ten years ; but they were 
to select two-fifths of their lands immediately ; to settle one hun- 
dred families upon them within seven years ; to build a fort at their 
own expense, and maintain a sufficient garrison in it for defence 
against the Indians. 

Mr. Thomas Lee, president of the council of Virginia, took the 
lead in the concerns of the company at the outset, and by many 
has been considered its founder. On his death, which soon took 
place, Lawrence Washington had the chief management. His 
enlightened mind and liberal spirit shone forth in his earliest 
arrangements. He wished to form the settlements with Germans 
from Pennsylvania. Being dissenters, however, they would be 
obliged, on iDccoming residents within the jurisdiction of Virginia, 
to pay parish rates, and maintain a clergyman of the Church of 
England, though they might not understand his language nor relish 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 23 

his doctrines. Lawrence sought to have them exempted from this 
double tax on purse and conscience. " It has ever been my opin- 
ion," said he, "and I hope it ever will be, that restraints on con- 
science are cruel in regard to those on whom they are imposed, 
and injurious to the country imposing them. England, Holland, 
and Prussia I may quote as examples, and much more Pennsylva- 
nia, which has flourished under that delightful liberty, so as to 
become the admiration of every man who considers the short time 
it has been settled. *■)<•** This colony (Virginia) was 
greatly settled in the latter part of Charles the First's time, and 
during the usurpation by the zealous churchmen ; and that spirit, 
which was then brought in, has ever since continued ; so that, 
except a few Quakers, we have no dissenters. But what has been 
the consequence ? We have increased by slow degrees, whilst our 
neighboring colonies, whose natural advantages are greatly inferior 
to ours, have become populous." Such were the enlightened 
views of this brother of our Washington, to whom the latter owed 
much of his moral and mental training. The company proceeded 
to make preparations for their colonizing scheme. Goods were 
imported from England suited to the Indian trade, or for presents 
to the chiefs. Rewards were promised to veteran warriors and 
hunters among the natives acquainted with the woods and moun- 
tains, for the best route to the Ohio. Before the company had 
received its charter, however, the French were in the field. 
Early in 1749, the Marquis delaGahsonniere, Governor of Canada, 
dispatched Celeron de Bienville, an intelligent officer, at the head 
of three hundred men, to the banks of the Ohio, to make peace, as 
he said, between the tribes that had become embroiled with each 
other during the late war, and to renew the French possession of 
the country. Celeron de Bienville distributed presents among the 
Indians, made speeches reminding them of former friendship, and 
warned them hot to trade with the English. He furthermore nailed 
leaden plates to trees, and buried others in the earth, at the conflu- 
ence of the Ohio and its tributaries, bearing inscriptions purporting 
that all the lands on both sides of the rivers to their sources apper- 
tained, as in foregone times, to the crown of France. The Indians 
gazed at these mysterious plates with wondering eyes, but surmised 
their purport. " They mean to steal our country from us," mur- 
mured they ; and they determined to seek protection from the Eng- 
lish. Celeron finding some traders from Pennsylvania trafficking 
among the Indians, he summoned them to depart, and wrote by 
them to James Hamilton, Governor of Pennsylvania, telHng him 
the object of his errand to those parts, and his surprise at meeting 
with English traders in a country to which England had no pre- 
tensions ; intimating that, in future, any intruders of the kind would 
be rigorously dealt with. His letter and a report of his proceed- 
ings on the Ohio, roused the sohcitude of the governor and council 
of Pennsylvania, for the protection of their Indian trade. Shortly 
afterward, one Hugh Crawford, who had been trading with the 
Miami tribes on the Wabash, brought a message from them, speak- 
ing of the promises and threats with which the French were 



24 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

endeavoring to shake their faith, but assuring the governor that 
their friendship for the Enghsh " would last while the sun and moon 
ran round the world." This message was accompanied by three 
strings of wampum. Governor Hamilton knew the value of Indian 
friendship, and suggested to the assembly that it would be better to 
clinch it with presents, and that as soon as possible. An envoy 
accordingly was sent off early in October, who was supposed to 
have great influence among the western tribes. This was one 
George Croghan, a veteran trader, shrewd and sagacious, who had 
been frequently to the Ohio country with pack-horses and followers, 
and made himself popular among the Indians by dispensing pres- 
ents with a lavish hand. He was accompanied by Andrew Mon- 
tour, a Canadian of half Indian descent, who was to act as inter- 
preter. They were provided with a small present for the emer- 
gency ; but were to convoke a meeting of all the tribes at Logs- 
town, on the Ohio, early in the ensuing spring, to receive an ample 
present which would be provided by the assembly. 

It was some time later in the same autumn ihat the Ohio company 
brought their plans into operation, and dispatched an agent to 
explore the lands upon the Ohio and its branches as low as the 
Great Falls, take note of their fitness for cultivation, of the passes 
of the mountains, the courses and bearings of the rivers, and the 
strength and disposition of the native tribes. The man chosen for 
the purpose was Christopher Gist, a hardy pioneer, experienced in 
woodcraft and Indian life, who had his home on the banks of the 
Yadkin, near the boundary line of Virginia and North Carolina. 
He was allowed a woodsman or two for the service of the expedi- 
tion. He set out on the 31st of October, from the banks of the 
Potomac, by an Indian path which the hunters had pointed out, 
leading from Wills' Creek, since called Fort Cumberland, to the 
Ohio. Indian paths and buffalo tracks are the primitive highways 
of the wilderness. Passing the Juniata, he crossed the ridges of 
the Allegany, arrived at Shannopin, a Delaware village on the 
south-east side of the Ohio, or rather of that upper branch of it, 
now called the Allegany, swam his horses across that river, and 
descending along its valley arrived at Logstown, an important 
Indian village a little below the site of the present city of Pittsburg. 
Here usually resided Tanacharisson, a Seneca chief of great note, 
being head sachem of the mixed tribes which had migrated to the 
Ohio and its branches. He was generally surnamed the half-king, 
being subordinate to the Iroquois confederacy. The chief was 
absent at this time, as were most of his people, it being the hunt- 
ing season. George Croghan, the envoy from Pennsylvania, with 
Montour his interpreter, had passed through Logstown a week pre- 
viously, on his way to the Twightwees and other tribes, on the 
Miami branch of the Ohio, Scarce any one was to be seen about 
the village but some of Croghan' s rough people, whom he had left 
behind — "reprobate Indian traders," as Gist terms them. They 
regarded the latter with a jealous eye, suspecting him of some riv- 
alship in trade, or designs on che Indian lands ; and intimated sig- 
nificantly that "he would never go home safe." Gist knew the 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 25 

meaning of such hints from men of this stamp in the lawless depths 
of the wilderness ; but quieted their suspicions by letting them 
know that he was on public business, and on good terms with their 
great man, George Croghan, to whom he dispatched a letter. He 
took his departure from Logstown, however, as soon as possible, 
preferring, as he said, the solitude of the wilderness to such com- 
pany. At Beaver Creek, a few miles below the village, he left the 
river and struck into the interior of the present State of Ohio. 
Here he overtook George Croghan at Muskingum, a town of 
Wyandots and Mingoes. He had ordered all the traders in his 
employ who were scattered among the Indian villages, to rally at 
this town, where he had hoisted the English flag over his residence, 
and over that of the sachem. This was in consequence of the 
hostility of the French who had recently captured, in the neighbor- 
hood, three white men in the employ of Frazier, an Indian trader, 
and had carried them away prisoners to Canada. Gist was well 
received by the people of Muskingum. They were indignant at 
the French violation of their territories, and the capture of their 
" English brothers." They had not forgotten the conduct of Cele- 
ron de Bienville in the previous year, and the mysterious plates 
which he had nailed against trees and sunk in the ground. " If 
the French claim the rivers which run into the lakes," said they, 
" those which run into the Ohio belong to us and to our brothers 
the English." And they were anxious that Gist should settle 
among them, and build a fort for their mutual defence. A council 
of the nation was now held, in which Gist invited them, in the 
name of the Governor of Virginia, to visit that province, where a 
large present of goods awaited them, sent by their father, the great 
king, over the water to his Ohio children. The invitation was gra- 
ciously received, but no answer could be given until a grand coun- 
cil of the western tribes had been held, which was to take place at 
Logstown in the ensuing spring. Similar results attended visits 
made by Gist and Croghan to the Delawares and the Shawnees at 
their villages about the Scioto River ; all promised to be at the 
gathering at Logstown. From the Shawnee village, near the 
mouth of the Scioto, the two emissaries shaped their course north 
two hundred miles, crossed the Great Moneami, or Miami River, 
on a raft, swimming their horses ; and on the 17th of February 
arrived at the Indian town of Piqua. These journeyings had car- 
ried Gist about a wide extent of country beyond the Ohio. It was 
rich and level, watered with streams and rivulets, and clad with 
noble forests of hickory, walnut, ash, poplar, sugar-maple, and 
wild cherry trees. Occasionally there were spacious plains covered 
with wild rye ; natural meadows, with blue grass and clover ; and 
buffaloes, thirty and forty at a time, grazing on them as in a culti- 
vated pasture. Deer, elk, and wild turkeys abounded. "Noth- 
ing is wanted but cultivation," said Gist, "to make this a most 
delightful country." Cultivation has since proved the truth of his 
words. The country thus described is the present State of Ohio. 
Piqua, where Gist and Croghan had arrived, was the principal 
town of the Twightwees or Miamis ; the most powerful confederacy 



26 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

of the West, combining four tribes, and extending its influence 
even beyond the Mississippi. A king or sachem of one or other 
of the different tribes presided over the whole. The head chief at 
present was the king of the Piankeshas. At this town Croghan 
formed a treaty of alHance in the name of the Governor of Penn- 
sylvania with two of the Miami tribes. And Gist was promised by 
the king of the Piankeshas that the chiefs of the various tribes 
would attend the meeting at Logstown to make a treaty with Vir- 
ginia. In the height of these demonstrations of friendship, two 
Ottawas entered the council-house, announcing themselves as 
envoys from the French Governor of Canada to seek a renewal of 
ancient alliance. They were received with all due ceremonial ; for 
none are more ceremonious than the Indians. The French colors 
were set up beside the English, and the ambassadors opened their 
mission. " Your father, the French king," said they, " remember- 
ing his children on the Ohio, has sent them these two kegs of milk," 
here, with great solemnity, they deposited two kegs of brandy, — 
"and this tobacco;" — here they deposited a roll ten pounds in 
weight. " He has made a clean road for you to come and see him 
and his officers ; and urges you to come, assuring you that all past 
differences will be forgotten." The Piankesha chief replied in the 
same figurative style. "It is true our Father has sent for us sev- 
eral times, and has said the road was clear ; but I understand it is 
not clear — it is foul and bloody, and the French have made it so. 
We have cleared a road for our brothers, the English ; the French 
have made it bad, and have taken some of our brothers prisoners. 
This we consider as done to ourselves." So saying, he turned his 
back upon the ambassadors, and stalked out of the council-house. 
In the end the ambassadors were assured that the tribes of the 
Ohio and the Six Nations were hand in hand with their brothers, 
the English ; and should war ensue with the French, they were 
ready to meet it. So the French colors were taken down ; the 
"kegs of milk" and roll of tobacco were rejected; the grand 
council broke up with a war-dance, and the ambassadors departed, 
weeping and howling, and predicting ruin to the Miamis. 

When Gist returned to the Shawnee town, near the mouth of the 
Scioto, and reported to his Indian friends there the alhance he had 
formed with the Miami confederacy, there was great feasting and 
speech-making, and firing of guns. He had now happily accom- 
plished the chief object of his mission — nothing remained but to 
descend the Ohio to the Great Falls. This, however, he was cau- 
tioned not to do. A large party of Indians, allies of the P'rench, 
were hunting in that neighborhood, who might kill or capture him. 
He crossed the river, attended only by a lad as a traveling com- 
panion and aid, and proceeded cautiously down the east side until 
within fifteen miles of the Falls. Here he came upon traps newly 
set, and Indian footprints not a day old ; and heard the distant 
report of guns. The story of Indian hunters then was true. He 
was in a dangerous neighborhood. The savages might come 
upon the tracks of his horses, or hear the bells put about their 
necks, when turned loose in the wilderness to graze. Abandoning 



LIFE OF WASHINGTOX. 27 

all idea, therefore, of visiting the Falls, and contenting himself 
with the information concerning them which he had received from 
others, he shaped his course on the i8th of March for the Cuttawa, 
or Kentucky River. From the top of a mountain in the vicinity 
he had a view to the south-west as far as the eye could reach, over 
a vast woodland country in the fresh garniture of spring, and wa- 
tered by abundant streams ; but as yet only the hunting-ground of 
savage tribes, and the scene of their sanguinary combats. In a 
word, Kentucky lay spread out before him in all its wild magnifi- 
cence ; long before it was beheld by Daniel Boone. For six weeks 
was this hardy pioneer making his toilful way up the valley of the 
Cuttawa, or Kentucky River, to the banks of the Blue Stone ; often 
checked by precipices, and obliged to seek fords at the heads of 
tributary streams ; and happy when he could find a buffalo path 
broken through the tangled forests, or worn into the everlasting 
rocks. On the 1st of May he climbed a rock sixty feet high, 
crowning a lofty mountain, and had a distant view of the great 
Kanawha, breaking its way through a vast sierra ; crossing that 
river on a raft of his own construction, he had many more weary 
days before him, before he reached his frontier abode on the banks 
of the Yadkin. He arrived there in the latter part of May, but 
there was no one to welcome the wanderer home. There had been 
an Indian massacre in the neighborhood, and he found his house 
silent and deserted. His heart sank within him, until an old man 
whom he met near the place assured him his family were safe, hav- 
ing fled for refuge to a settlement thirty-five miles off, on the banks 
of the Roanoke. There he rejoined them on the following day. 

While Gist had been making his painful way homeward, the two 
Ottawa ambassadors had returned to Fort Sandusky, bringing word 
to the French that their flag had been struck in the council-house 
at Piqua, and their friendship rejected and their hostility defied by 
the Miamis. They informed them also of the gathering of the 
western tribes that was to take place at Logstown, to conclude a 
treaty with the Virginians. It was a great object with the French 
to prevent this treaty, and to spirit up the Ohio Indians against the 
English. This they hoped to effect through the agency of one 
Captain Joncaire, a veteran diplomatist of the wilderness, whose 
character and story deserve a passing notice. He had been taken 
prisoner when quite young by the Iroquois, and adopted into one 
of their tribes. This was the making of his fortune. He had 
grown up among them, acquired their language, adapted himself 
to their habits, and was considered by them as one of themselves. 
On returning to civilized life he became a prime instrument in the 
hands of the Canadian government, for managing and cajoling the 
Indians. Sometimes he was an ambassador to the Iroquois ; some- 
times a mediator between the jarring tribes ; sometimes a leader 
of their warriors when employed by the French. When in 1728 
the Delawares and Shawnees migrated to the banks of the Ohio, 
Joncaire was the agent who followed them, and prevailed on them 
to consider themselves under French protection. When the 
French wanted to get a commanding site for a post on the Iroquois 



28 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

lands, near Niagara, Joncaire was the man to manage it. He 
craved a situation where he might put up a wigwam, and dwell 
among his Iroquois brethren. It was granted of course, " for was 
he not a son of the tribe — was he not one of themselves ? ' ' By 
degrees his wigwam grew into an important trading post ; ulti- 
mately it became Fort Niagara. Years and years had elapsed ; he 
had grown gray in Indian diplomacy,- and was now sent once more 
to maintain French sovereignty over the valley of the Ohio. He 
appeared at Logstown accompained by another Frenchman, and 
forty Iroquois warriors. He found an assemblage of the western 
tribes, feasting and rejoicing, and firing of guns, for George Croghan 
and Montour the interpreter were there, and had been distributing 
presents on behalf of the Governor of Pennsylvania. Joncaire 
was said to have the wit of a Frenchman, and the eloquence of an 
Iroquois. He made an animated speech to the chiefs in their own 
tongue, the gist of which was that their father Onontio (that is to 
say, the Governor of Canada) desired his children of the Ohio to 
turn away the Indian traders, and never to deal with them again on 
pain of his displeasure ; so saying, he laid down a wampum belt 
of uncommon size, by way of emphasis to his message. For once 
his eloquence was of no avail ; a chief rose indignantly, shook his 
finger in his face, and stamping on the ground, " This is our land," 
said he. "What right has Onontio here? The English are our 
brothers. They shall live among us as long as one of us is alive. 
We will trade with them, and not with you," and so saying he 
rejected the belt of wampum. Joncaire returned to an advanced 
post recently established on the upper part of the river, whence he 
wrote to the Governor of Pennsylvania: "The Marquis de la 
Jonquiere, Governor of New France, having ordered me to watch 
that the English make no treaty in the Ohio country, I have signi- 
fied to the traders of your government to retire. You are not 
ignorant that all these lands belong to the King of France, and 
that tlie English have no right to trade in them." He concluded 
by reiterating the threat made two years previously by Celeron de 
Bienville against all intruding fur traders. In the mean time, in 
the face of all these protests* and menaces, Mr. Gist, under sanc- 
tion of the Virginia Legislature, proceeded in the same year to sur- 
vey the lands within the grant of the Ohio company, lying on the 
south side of the Ohio river, as far down as the great Kanawha. 
An old Delaware sachem, meeting him while thus employed, pro- 
pounded a somewhat puzzling question. "The French," said he, 
" claim all the land on one side of the Ohio, the English claim all 
the land on the other side— now where does the Indian's land lie ? " 
Poor savages! Between their "fathers," the French, and their 
"brothers," the EngHsh, they were in a fair way of being most 
lovingly shared out of the whole country. 

The French now prepared for hostile contingencies. They 
launched an armed vessel of unusual size on Lake Ontario ; forti- 
fied their trading house at Niagara ; strengthened their outposts, 
and advanced others on the upper waters of the Ohio. A stir of 
warlike preparation was likewise to be observed among the British 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 29 

colonies. It was evident that the adverse claims to the disputed 
territories, if pushed home, could only be settled by the stern arbi- 
trament of the sword. In Virginia, especially, the war spirit was 
manifest. The province was divided into military districts, each 
having an adjutant general, with the rank of major, and the pay 
of one hundred and fifty pounds a year, whose duty was to attend 
to the organization and equipment of the militia. Such an appoint- 
ment vi^as sought by Lawrence Washington for his brother George. 
It shows what must have been the maturity of the mind of the lat- 
ter, and the confidence inspired by his judicious conduct and apt- 
ness for business, that the post should not only be sought for him, 
but readily obtained ; though he was but^nincteen years of age. 
He proved himself worthy of the appointment. He now set about 
preparing himself, with his usual method and assiduity, for his new 
duties. Virginia had among its floating population some military 
relics of the late Spanish war. Among these was a certain Adju- 
tant Muse, a Westmoreland volunteer, who had served with Law-- 
rence Washington in the campaigns in the West Indies, and had 
been with him in the attack on Carthagena. He now undertook 
to instruct his brother George in the art of war ; lent him treatises 
on military tactics ; put him through the manual exercise, and 
gave him some idea of evolutions in the field. Another of Law- 
rence's campaigning comrades was Jacob Van Braam, a Dutch- 
man by birth ; a soldier of fortune of the Dalgetty order ; who had 
been in the British army, but was now out of service, and, profes- 
sing to be a complete master of fence, recruited his slender purse in 
the time of military excitement, by giving the Virginian youth les- 
sons in the sword exercise. Under the instructions of these veter- 
ans Mount Vernon, from being a quiet rural retreat, where Wash- 
ington, three years previously, had indited love ditties to his "low- 
land beauty," was suddenly transformed into a school of arms, as 
he practiced the manual exercise with Adjutant Muse, or took les- 
sons on the broadsword from Van Braam. His martial studies, 
however, were interrupted for a time by the critical state of his 
brother's health. The constitution of Lawrence had always been 
delicate, and he had been obliged repeatedly to travel for a change 
of air. There were now pulmonary symptoms of a threatening 
nature, and by advice of his physicians he determined to pass a 
winter in the West Indies, taking with him his favorite brother 
George as a companion. They accordingly sailed for Barbadoes 
on the 28th of September, 1751. George kept a journal of the 
voyage with log-book brevity ; recording the wind and weather, 
but no events worth citation. They landed at Barbadoes on the 
3d of November. The resident physician of the place gave a 
favorable report of Lawrence's case, and held out hopes of a cure. 
The brothers were delighted with the aspect of the country, as they 
drove out in the cool of the evening, and beheld on all sides fields 
of sugar cane, and Indian corn, and groves of tropical trees, in 
full fruit and foliage. They took up their abode at a house pleas- 
antly situated about a mile from town, commanding an extensive 
prospect of sea and land, including Carlyle bay and its shipping, 



30 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and belonging to Captain Crofton, commander of James Fort. 
Barbadoes had its theatre, at which Washington witnessed for the 
first time a dramatic representation, a species of amusement of 
which he afterward became fond. The brothers had scarcely been 
a fortnight at the island when George was taken down by a severe 
attack of small-pox. Skillful medical treatment, with the kind 
attentions of friends, and especially of his brother, restored him to 
health in about three weeks ; but his face always remained slightly 
marked. After his recovery he made excursions about the island, 
noticing its soil, productions, fortifications, public works and the 
manners of its inhabitants. While admiring the productiveness of 
the sugar plantations, Jie was shocked at the spendthrift habits of 
the planters, and their utter want of management. " How won- 
derful," writes he, "that such people should be in debt, and not be 
able to indulge themselves in all the luxuries, as well as the neces- 
saries of life. Yet so it happens. Estates are often alienated for 
debts. How persons coming to estates of two, three, and four hun- 
dred acres can want, is to me most wonderful." How much does 
this wonder speak for his own scrupulous principle of always living 
within compass. The residence at Barbadoes failed to have the 
anticipated effect on the health of Lawrence, and he determined to 
seek the sweet climate of Bermuda in the spring. He felt the 
absence from his wife, and it was arranged that George should 
return to Virginia, and bring her out to meet him at that island. 
Accordingly, on the 22d of December, George set sail in the Indus- 
try, bound to Virginia, where he arrived on the ist February, 1752, 
after five weeks of stormy winter seafaring. Lawrence remained 
through the winter at Barbadoes ; but the very mildness of the 
climate relaxed and enervated him. He felt the want of the brac- 
ing winter weather to which he had been accustomed. Even the 
invariable beauty of the climate, the perpetual summer, wearied 
the restless invalid. " This is the finest island of the West Indies," 
said he ; " but I own no place can please me without a change of 
seasons. We soon tire of the same prospect." A consolatory 
truth for the inhabitants of more capricious climes. Still some of 
the worst symptoms of his disorder had disappeared, and he 
seemed to be slowly recovering ; but the nervous restlessness and 
desire of change, often incidental to his malady, had taken hold 
of him, and early in March he hastened to Bermuda. He had 
come too soon. The keen air of early spring brought on an aggra- 
vated return of his worst symptoms. " I have now got to my last 
refuge," writes he to a friend, "where I must receive my final sen- 
tence, which at present Dr. Forbes will not pronounce. He leaves 
me, however, I think, like a criminal condemned, though not with- 
out hopes of reprieve. But this I am to obtain by meritoriously 
abstaining from flesh of every sort, all strong liquors, and by riding 
as much as I can bear. These are the only terms on which I am 
to hope for life." He was now afflicted w'ith painful indecision, 
and his letters perplexed his family, leaving them uncertain as to 
his movements, and at a loss how to act. At one time he talked 
of remaining a year at Bermuda, and wrote to his wife to come out 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 3I 

with George and rejoin him there ; but the very same letter shows 
his irresolution and uncertainty, for he leaves her coming to the 
decision of herself and friends. As to his own movements, he 
says, "Six weeks will determine me what to resolve on. Forbes 
advises the south of France, or else Barbadoes." The very next 
letter, written shortly afterward in a moment of despondency, talks 
of the possibihty of " hurrying home to his grave ! " The last was 
no empty foreboding. He did indeed hasten back, and just reached 
Mount Vernon in time to die under his own roof, surrounded by his 
family and friends, and attended in his last moments by that brother 
on whose manly affection his heart seemed to repose. His death 
took place on the 26th July, 1752, when but thirty-four years of 
age. He was a noble-spirited, pure-minded, accomplished gentle- 
man ; honored by the public, and beloved by his friends. The 
paternal care ever manifested by him for his youthful brother, 
George, and the influence his own character and conduct must 
have had upon him in his ductile years, should hnk their memories 
together in history, and endear the name of Lawrence Washington 
to every American. Lawrence left a wife and an infant daughter 
to inherit his ample estates. In case his daughter should die with- 
out issue, the estate of Mount Vernon, and other lands specified in 
his will, were to be enjoyed by her mother during her lifetime, and 
at her death to be inherited by his brother George. The latter was 
appointed one of the executors of the will ; but such was the 
implicit confidence reposed in his judgment and integrity, that, 
although he was but twenty years of age, the management of the 
affairs of the deceased was soon devolved upon him almost entirely. 
It is needless to say that they were managed with consummate skill 
and scrupulous fidehty. 



CHAPTER III. 

WASHINGTON'S EXPEDITIONS IN THE WILDERNESS. 

The meeting of the Ohio Tribes, Delawares, Shawnees, and 
Mingoes, to form a treaty of alliance with Virginia, took place at 
Logstown, at the appointed time. The chiefs of the Six Nations 
declined to attend. "It is not our custom," said they proudly, 
•' to meet to treat of affairs in the woods and weeds. If the Gov- 
ernor of Virginia wants to speak with us, and dehver us a present 
from our father (the King), we will meet him at Albany, where we 
expect the Governor of New York will be present." At Logstown, 
Colonel Fry and two other commissioners from Virginia, concluded 
a treaty with the tribes above named ; by which the latter engaged 
not to molest any English settlers south of the Ohio. Tanacharis- 
son, the half-king, now advised that his brothers of Virginia should 
build a strong house at the fork of the Monongahela, to resist the 



32 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

designs of the French. Mr. Gist was accordingly instructed to lay 
out a town and build a fort at Chartier's Creek, on the east side of 
the Ohio, a little below the site of the present city of Pittsburg. 
He commenced a settlement, also, in a valley just beyond Lau- 
rel Hill, not far from the Youghiogeny, and prevailed on eleven 
families to join him. The Ohio Company, about the same time, 
established a trading post, well stocked with English goods, at 
"Wills' Creek (now the town of Cumberland). The Ohio tribes 
were greatly incensed at the aggressions of the French, who were 
erecting posts within their territories, and sent deputations to 
remonstrate, but without effect. The half-king, as chief of tlie 
western tribes, repaired to the French post on Lake Erie, where he 
made his complaint in person. " Fathers," said he, " you are the 
disturbers of this land by building towns, and taking the country 
from us by fraud and force. We kindled a fire a long time ago at 
Montreal, where we desired you to stay and not to come and 
intrude upon our land. I now advise you to return to that place, 
for this land is ours. If you had come in a peaceable manner, hke 
our brothers the Enghsh, we should have traded with you as we do 
with them ; but that you should come and build houses on our 
land, and take it by force, is what we cannot submit to. Both you 
and the English are white. We live in a country between you 
both ; the land belongs to neither of you. The Great Being allotted 
it to us as a residence. So, fathers, I desire you, as I have desired 
our brothers the English, to withdraw, for I will keep you both at 
arm's length. Whichever most regards this request, that side will 
we stand by and consider friends. Our brothers the Enghsh have 
heard this, and I now come to tell it to you, for I am not afraid to 
order you off this land." " Child," rephed the French command- 
ant, " you talk foolishly. You say this land belongs to you ; there 
is not the black of my nail yours. It is my land, and I will have 
it, let who W'ill stand up against me. I am not afraid of flies and 
mosquitoes, for as such I consider the Indians. I tell you that 
down the river I will go, and build upon it. If it were blocked up 
I have forces sufficient to burst it open and trample down all who 
oppose me. My force is as the sand upon the sea-shore. There- 
fore here is your wampum ; I fling it at you." Tanacharisson 
returned, wounded at heart, both by the language and the haughty 
manner of the French commandant. He saw the ruin impending 
over his race, but looked with hope and trust to the Enghsh as the 
power least disposed to wrong the red man. 

French influence was successful in other quarters. Some of the 
Indians who had been friendly to the English showed signs of 
alienation. Others menaced hostilities. There were reports that 
the French were ascending the Mississippi from Louisiana. 
France, it was said, intended to connect Louisiana and Canada by 
a chain of military posts, and hem the English within the Alleghany 
Mountains. The Ohio Company complained loudly to the Lieu- 
tenant-Governor of Virginia, the Hon. Robert Dinwiddle, of the 
hostile conduct of the French and their Indian allies. They found 
in Dinwiddle a ready listener ; he was a stockholder in the com- 



I753-] THE FORK OF THE OHIO. 33 

pany. A commissioner, Captain William Trent, was sent to expos- 
tulate with the French commander on the Ohio for his aggressions 
on the territory of his Britannic majesty ; he bore presents also of 
guns, powder, shot, and clothing for the friendly Indians. Trent 
was not a man of the true spirit for a mission to the frontier. He 
stopped a short time at Logstown, though the French were one hun- 
dred and fifty miles further up the river, and directed his course to 
Piqua, the great town of the Twightwees, where Gist and Croghan 
had been so well received by the Miamis, and the French flag 
struck in the council house. All now was reversed. The place 
had been attacked by the French and Indians ; the Miamis 
defeated with great loss ; the English traders taken prisoners ; the 
Piankesha chief, who had so proudly turned his back upon the 
Ottawa ambassadors, had been sacrificed by the hostile savages, 
and the French flag hoisted in triumph on the ruins of the town. 
The whole aspect of affairs was so threatening on the frontier, that 
Trent lost heart, and returned home without accomplishing his 
errand. 

Governor Dinwiddie now looked round for a person more fitted 
to fulfill a mission which required physical strength and moral 
energy ; a courage to cope with savages, and a sagacity to nego- 
tiate with white men. Washington was pointed out as possessed 
of those requisites. It is true he was not yet twenty-two years of 
age, but pubhc confidence in his judgment and abilities had been 
manifested a second time, by renewing his appointment of adjutant- 
general, and assigning him the northern division. He was 
acquainted too with the matters in litigation, having been in the 
bosom councils of his deceased brother. His woodland experience 
fitted him for an expedition through the wilderness ; and his great 
discretion and self-command for a negotiation with wily command- 
ers and fickle savages. He was accordingly chosen for the expe- 
(Jition. By his letter of instructions he was directed to repair to 
Logstown, and hold a communication with Tanacharisson, Monac- 
atoocha, alias Scarooyadi, the next in command, and the other 
sachems of the mixed tribes friendly to the English ; to inform 
them of the purport of his errand, and request an escort to the 
head-quaiters of the French commander. To that commander he 
was to deliver his credentials, and the letter of Governor Dinwid- 
die, and demand an answer in the name of his Britannic majesty ; 
but not to wait for it beyond a week. On receiving it, he was to 
request a sufficient escort to protect him on his return. He was, 
moreover, to acquaint himself with the numbers and force of the 
French stationed on the Ohio and its vicinity ; their capability of 
being reinforced from Canada ; the forts they had erected ; where 
situated, how garrisoned ; the object of their advancing into those 
parts, and how they were likely to be supported. Washington set 
off from Williamsburg on the 30th of October (1753), the veiy day 
on which he received his credentials. At Fredericksburg he 
engaged his old " master offence," Jacob Van Braam, to accom- 
pany him as interpreter ; though it would appear from subsequent 
circumstances, that the veteran swordsman was but indifferently 



34 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

versed either in French or Enghsh. Having provided himself at 
Alexandria with necessaries for the journey, he proceeded to Win- 
chester, then on the frontier, where he procured horses, tents, and 
other traveling equipments, and then pushed on by a road newly 
opened to Wills' Creek (town of Cumberland), where he arrived 
on the 14th of November. Here he met with Mr. Gist, the intrepid 
pioneer, who had explored the Ohio in the employ of the company, 
and whom he engaged to accompany and pilot him in the present 
expedition. He secured the services also of one John Davidson as 
Indian interpreter, and of four frontiersmen, two of whom were 
Indian traders. With this little band, and his swordsman and 
interpreter, Jacob Van Braam, he set forth on the 15th of Novem- 
ber, through a wild country, rendered almost impassable by recent 
storms of rain and snow. At the mouth of Turtle Creek, on the 
Monongahela, he found John Frazier, the Indian trader, some of 
whose people, as heretofore stated, had been sent off prisoners to 
Canada. Frazier himself had recently been ejected by the French 
from the Indian village of Venango, where he had a gunsmith's 
establishment. According to his account the French general who 
had commanded on this frontier was dead, and the greater part of 
the forces were retired into winter quarters. As the rivers were all 
swollen so that the horses had to swim them, Washington sent all 
the baggage down the Monongahela in a canoe under care of two 
of the men, who had orders to meet him at the confluence of that 
river with the Allegany, where their united waters form the Ohio.- 
"As I got down before the canoe," writes he in his journal, "I 
spent some time in viewing the rivers, and the land at the Fork, 
which I think extremely well situated for a fort, as it has the abso- 
lute command of both rivers. The land at the point is twenty or 
twenty-five feet above the common surface of the water, and a 
considerable bottom of flat, well timbered land all around it, very 
convenient for building. The rivers are each a quarter of a mile or 
more across, and run here very nearly at right angles ; Allegany 
bearing north-east, and Monongahela south-east. The former of 
these two is a very rapid and swift-running water, the other deep 
and still, without any perceptible fall." The Ohio Company had 
intended to build a fort about two miles from this place, on the 
south-east side of the river ; but Washington gave the fork the 
decided preference. French engineers of experience proved the 
accuracy of his military eye, by subsequently choosing it for the 
site of Fort Duquesne, noted in frontier history. In this neighbor- 
hood lived Shingiss, the king or chief sachem of the Delawares. 
Washington visited him at his village, to invite him to the council 
at Logstown. He was one of the greatest warriors of his tribe, and 
subsequently took up the hatchet at various times against the Eng- 
lish, though now he seemed favorably disposed, and readily 
accepted the invitation. They arrived at Logstown after sunset on 
the 24th of November. The half-king was absent at his hunting 
lodge on Beaver Creek, about fifteen miles distant ; but Washing- 
ton had runners sent out to invite him and all the other chiefs to a 
grand talk on the following day. In the morning four French 



I7S3-] INDIAN COUNCILS. 35 

deserters came into the village. They had deserted from a com- 
pany of one hundred men, sent up from New Orleans with eight 
canoes laden with provisions. Washington drew from them an 
account of the French force at New Orleans, and of the forts along 
the Mississippi, and at the mouth of the Wabash, by which they 
kept up a communication with the lakes ; all which he carefully 
noted down. The deserters were on their way to Philadelphia, 
conducted by a Pennsylvania trader. About three o'clock the 
half-king arrived. Washington had a private conversation with 
him in his tent, through Davidson the interpreter. He found him 
intelligent, patriotic and proudly tenacious of his territorial rights. 
We have already cited from Washington's papers, the account 
given by this chief in this conversation, of his interview with the 
late French commander. He stated, moreover, that the French 
had built two forts, differing in size, but on the same model, a plan 
of which he gave, of his own drawing. The largest was on Lake 
Erie, the other on French Creek, fifteen miles apart, with a wagon 
road between them. The nearest and levelest way to them was 
now impassable, lying through large and miry savannas; they 
would have, therefore, to go by Venango, and it would take five or 
six sleeps (or days) of good travehng to reach the nearest fort. On 
the following morning at nine o'clock, the chiefs assembled at the 
council house ; where Washington, according to his instructions, 
informed them that he was sent by their brother, the Governor of 
Virginia, to deliver to the French commandant a letter of great 
importance, both to their brothers the English and to themselves ; 
and that he was to ask their advice and assistance, and some of 
their young men to accompany and provide for him on the way, 
and be his safeguard against the "French Indians" who had 
taken up the hatchet. He concluded by presenting the indispens- 
able document in Indian diplomacy a string of wampum. The 
chiefs, according to etiquette, sat for some moments silent after he 
had concluded, as if ruminating on what had been said, or to give 
him time for further remark. The half-king then rose and spoke in 
behalf of the tribes, assuring him that they considered the English 
and themselves brothers, and one people ; and that they intended 
to return the French the "speech-belts," or wampums, which the 
latter had sent them. This, in Indian diplomacy, is a renunciation 
of all friendly relations. An escort would be furnished to Wash- 
ington composed of Mingoes, Shannoahs, and Delawares, in token 
of the love and loyalty of those several tribes ; but three days 
w^ould be required to prepare for the journey. Washington remon- 
strated against such delay ; but was informed, that an affair of such 
moment, where three speech-belts were to be given up, was not to 
be entered into without due consideration. Besides, the young 
men who were to form the escort were absent hunting, and the 
half-king could not suffer the party to go without sufficient pro- 
tection. His own French -speech belt, also, was at his hunting 
lodge, whither he must go in quest of it. Moreover, the Shannoah 
chiefs were yet absent and must be waited for. In short, Wash- 
ington had his first lesson in Indian diplomacy, which for punc- 



36 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

tilio, ceremonial, and secret maneuvring, is equal at least to that 
of civilized life. He soon found that to urge a more speedy de- 
parture would be offensive to Indian dignity and decorum, so he 
was fain to await the gathering together of the different chiefs with 
their speech-belts. 

In fact there was some reason for all this caution. Tidings had 
reached the sachems that Captain Joncaire had called a meeting at 
Venango, of the Mingoes, Delawares, and other tribes, and made 
them a speech, informing them that the French, for the present, 
had gone into winter quarters, but intended to descend the river in 
great force, and fight the English in the spring. He had advised 
them, therefore, to stand aloof, for should they interfere, the French 
and English would join, cut them all off, and divide their land be- 
tween them. AVith these rumors preying on their minds, the half- 
king and three other chiefs Avaited on Washington in his tent in the 
evening, and after representing that they had complied Avith all the 
requisitions of the Governor of Virginia, endeavored to draw from 
the youthful ambassador the true purport of his mission to the 
French commandant. Washington had anticipated an inquiry of 
the kind, knowing how natural it was that these poor people should 
regard, with anxiety and distrust, every movement of two formid- 
able powers thus pressing upon them from opposite sides, he man- 
aged, however, to answer them in such a manner as to allay their 
solicitude without transcending the bounds of diplomatic secrecy. 
After a day or two more of delay and further consultations in the 
council house, the chiefs determined that but three of their number 
should accompany the mission, as a greater number might awaken 
the suspicions of the French. Accordingly, on the 30th of November, 
Washington set out for the French post, having his usual party 
augmented by an Indian hunter, and being accompanied by the 
half-king, an old Shannoah, sachem named Jeskakake, and an- 
other chief, sometimes called Belt of Wampum, from being the 
keeper of the speech-belts, but generally bearing the sounding ap- 
pellation of White Thunder. 

Although the distance to Venango, by the route taken, was not 
above seventy miles, yet such was the inclemency of the weather 
and the difficulty of traveling, that Washington and his party did 
not arrive there until the 4th of December. The French colors 
were flying at a house whence John Frazier, the English trader, 
had been driven. Washington repaired thither, and inquired of 
three French officers Avhom he saw there where the com- 
mandant resided. One of them promptly replied that he " had the 
command of the Ohio." It was, in fact, the redoubtable Captain 
Joncaire, the veteran intriguer of the frontier. On being apprised, 
however, of the nature of Washington's errand, he informed him 
that there was a general officer at the next fort, where he advised 
him to apply for an answer to the letter of which he was the 
bearer. 

In the mean time, he invited Washington and his party to a supper 
at head-quarters. It proved a jovial one, for Joncaire appears to 
have been somewhat of a boon companion, and there is always 



I753-] FRONTIER REVELRVr yj 

ready though rough hospitality in the wilderness. It is true, Wash- 
ington, for so young a man, may not have had the most convivial 
air, but there may have been a moist look of promise in the old 
soldier Van Braam. 

Joncaire and his brother officers pushed the bottle briskly. " The 
wine," says Washington, " as they dosed themselves pretty plenti- 
fully with it, soon banished the restraint which at first appeared in 
their conversation, and gave a license to their tongues to reveal 
their sentiments more freely. They told me that it was their abso- 
lute design to take possession of the Ohio ; for that although they 
were sensible the English could raise two men for their one, yet 
they knew their motions were too slow and dilatory to prevent any 
undertaking. They pretend to have an undoubted right to the 
river from a discovery made by one La Salle sixty years ago, and 
the rise of this expedition is to prevent our settling on the river or 
the waters of it, as they heard of some families moving out in order 
thereto." 

Washington retained his sobriety and his composure throughout 
all the rodomontade and bacchanalian outbreak of the mercurial 
Frenchmen ; leaving the task of pledging them to his master of 
fence, Van Braam, who was not a man to flinch from potations. 
He took careful note, however, of all their revelations, and col- 
lected a variety of information concerning the French forces ; how 
and where they were distributed ; the situations and distances of 
their forts, and their means and mode of obtaining supplies. If the 
veteran diplomatist of the wilderness had intended this revel 
for a snare, he was completely foiled by his youthful competitor. 

On the following day there was no traveling on account of ex- 
cessive rain. Joncaire, in the mean time, having discovered that 
the half-king was with the mission, expressed his surprise that he 
had not accompanied it to his quarters on the preceding day. 
W^ashington, in truth, had feared to trust the sachem within the 
reach of the politic Frenchman. Nothing would do now but Jon- 
caire must have the sachems at head-quarters. Here his diplomacy 
was triumphant. He received them wnth open arms. He was en- 
raptured to see them. His Indian brothers ! How could they be 
so near without coming to visit him ? He made them presents ; 
but, above all, plied them so potently with liquor, that the poor 
half-king, Jeskakake, and White Thunder forgot all about their 
wrongs, their speeches, their speech-belts, and all the business they 
had come upon ; paid no heed to the repeated cautions of their 
English friends, and were soon in a complete state of frantic ex- 
travagance or drunken oblivion. 

The next day the half-king made his appearance at Washington's 
tent, perfectly sober and very much crestfallen. He declared, how- 
ever, that he still intended to make his speech to the French, and 
offered to rehearse it on the spot ; but Washington advised him not 
to waste his ammunition on inferior game hke Joncaire and his com- 
rades, but to reserve it for the commandant. The sachem was not 
to be persuaded. Here, he said, was the place of the council fire, 
where they were accustomed to transact their business with the 



38 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

French ; and as to Joncaire, he had all the management of French 
affairs with the Indians. 

Washington was fain to attend the council fire and listen to the 
speech. It was much the same in purport as tliat which he had 
made to the French general, and he ended by offering to return the 
French speech-belt ; but this Joncaire refused to receive, teUing 
him to carry it to the commander at the fort. All that day and the 
next was the party kept at Venango by the stratagems of Joncaire 
and his emissaries to detain and seduce the sachems. It was not 
until 12 o'clock on the 7th of December, that Washington was 
able to extricate them out of their clutches and commence his 
journey. A French commissary by the name of La Force, and 
three soldiers, set off in company with him. La Force went as if 
on ordinary business, but he proved one of the most active, dar- 
ing, and mischief-making of those anomalous agents employed by 
the French among the Indian tribes. It is probable that he was 
at the bottom of many of the perplexities experienced by Washing- 
ton at Venango, and now traveled with him for the prosecution of 
his wiles. He will be found, hereafter, acting a more prominent 
part, and uUimately reaping the fruit of his evil doings. 

After four days of weary travel through snow and rain, and mire 
and swamp, the party reached the fort. It was situated on a kind 
of island on the west fork of French Creek, about fifteen miles 
south of Lake Erie, and consisted of four houses, forming a hollow 
square, defended by bastions made of palisades twelve feet high, 
picketed, and pierced for cannon and small arms. Within the bas- 
tions Vv^ere a guard-house, chapel, and other buildings, and outside 
were stables, a smith's forge, and log-houses covered with bark, for 
the soldiers. On the death of the late general, the fort had re- 
mained in charge of one Captain Reparti until within a week past, 
when the Chevalier Legardeur de St. Pierre had arrived, and taken 
command. 

The reception of Washington at the fort was very different from 
the unceremonious one experienced at the outpost of Joncaire and 
his convivial messmates. When he presented himself at the gate, 
accompanied by his interpreter, Van Braam, he was met by the 
of^cer second in command and conducted in due military form to 
his superior ; an ancient and silver-haired chevalier of the military 
order of St. Louis, courteous but ceremonious ; mingling the polish 
of the French gentleman of the old school with the precision of the 
soldier. 

Having announced his errand through his interpreter. Van 
Braam, Washington offered his credentials and the letter of Gov- 
ernor Dinwiddie, and was disposed to proceed at once to business 
with the prompt frankness of a young man unhackneyed in dip- 
lomacy. The chevalier, however, politely requested him to retain 
the documents in his possession until his predecessor. Captain 
Reparti, should arrive, who was hourly expected from the next 
post. 

At two o'clock the captain arrived. The letter and its accom- 
panying documents were then offered again, and received in due 



w 



1753.] TRANSA CTIONS A T THE FOR T. 39 

form, and the chevalier and his officers retired with them into a 
private apartment, where the captain, who understood a httle 
English, officiated as translator. The translation being finished, 
Washington was requested to walk in and bring his translator Van 
Braam, with him, to peruse and correct it, which he did. 

In this letter, Didwiddie complained of the intrusion of French 
forces into the Ohio country, erecting forts and making settlements 
in the western parts of the colony of Virginia, so notoriously known 
to be the property of the crown of Great Britain. He inquired by 
whose authority and instructions the French Commander-general 
had marched this force from Canada, and made this invasion ; in- 
timating that his own action would be regulated by the answer he 
should receive, and the tenor of the commission with which he was 
honored. At the same time he required of the commandant his 
peaceable departure, and that he would forbear to prosecute a pur- 
pose " so interruptive of the harmony and good understanding which 
his majesty was desirous to continue and cultivate with the most 
cathohc king." 

The latter part of the letter related to the youthful envoy. " I 
persuade myself you will receive and entertain Major Washington 
with the candor and politeness natural to your nation, and it will 
give me the greatest satisfaction if you can return him with an an- 
swer suitable to my wishes for a long and lasting peace be- 
tween us." 

The two following days were consumed in councils of the cheva- 
lier and his officers over the letter and the necessary reply. Wash- 
ington occupied himself in the mean time in observing and taking 
notes of the plan, dimensions, and strength of the fort, and of 
everything about it. He gave orders to his people, also, to take an 
exact account of the canoes in readiness, and others in the process 
of construction for the conveyance of troops down the river in the 
ensuing spring. 

As the weather continued stormy, with much snow, and the horses 
were daily losing strength, he sent them down, unladen, to Ven- 
ango, to await his return by water. In the mean time, he discov- 
ered that busy intrigues were going on to induce the half-king and 
the other sachems to abandon him, and renounce all friendship 
with the English. Upon learning this, he urged the chiefs to de- 
liver up their " speech-belts " immediately, as they had promised, 
thereby shaking off all dependence upon the French. They ac- 
cordingly pressed for an audience that very evening. A private 
one was at length granted them by the commander, in presence of 
one or two of his officers. The half-king reported the result of it 
to Washington. The venerable but astute chevalier cautiously 
evaded the acceptance of the proffered wampum ; made many 
professions of love and friendship, and said he wished to live in 
peace and trade amicably with the tribes of the Ohio, in proof of 
which he would send down some goods immediately for them to 
Logstown. 

As Washington understood, privately, that an officer was to ac- 
company the man employed to convey these goods, he suspected 



40 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

that the real design was to arrest and bring off all straggling Eng- 
lish traders they might meet with. What strengthened this opinion 
was a frank avowal which had been made to him bj'^ the chevalier, 
that he had orders to capture every British subject who should at- 
tempt to trade upon the Oliio or its waters. 

Captain Reparti, also, in reply to his inquiry as to what had been 
done with two Pennsylvania traders, who had been taken with all 
their goods, informed him that they had been sent to Canada, but 
had since returned home. He had stated, furthermore, that 
during the time he held command, a white boy had been carried 
captive past the fort by a party of Indians, who had with them, also, 
two or three white men's scalps. 

All these circumstances showed him the mischief that was brew- 
ing in these parts, and the treachery and violence that pervaded the 
frontier, and made him the more sohcitous to accomphsh his mis- 
sion successfully, and conduct his little band in safety out of a wily 
neighborhood. 

On the evening of the 14th, the Chevalier de St. Pien-e delivered 
to Washington his sealed reply to the letter of Governor Dinwiddle. 
The purport of previous conversations with the chevalier, and the 
whole complexion of affairs on the frontier, left no doubt of the 
nature of that reply. 

The business of his mission being accomplished, Washington 
prepared on the i 5th to return by water to Venango ; but a secret 
influence was at work which retarded every movement. "The 
commandant," writes he, "ordered a plentiful store of hquor and 
provisions to be put on board our canoes, and appeared to be ex- 
tremely complaisant, though he was exerting every artifice which 
he could invent to set our Indians at variance with us, to prevent 
their going until cTfter our departure ; presents, rewards, and every- 
thing which could be suggested by him or his officers. I cannot 
say that ever in my life I suffered so much anxiety as I did in this 
affair. I saw that every stratagem which the most fruitful brain 
could invent was practiced to win the half-king to their interests, 
and that leaving him there was giving them the opportunity they 
aimed at. I went to the half-king, and pressed him in the strong- 
est terms to go ; he told me that the commandant would not dis- 
charge him until the morning. I then went to the commandant 
and desired him to do their business, and complained to him of 
ill treatment ; for, keeping them, as they were a part of my com- 
pany, was detaining me. This he promised not to do, but to for- 
ward my journey as much as he could. He protested he did not 
keep them, but was ignorant of the cause of their stay ; though I 
soon found it out. He had promised them a present of guns if 
they would wait until the morning. As I was very much pressed 
by the Indians to wait this day for them, I consented, on the promise 
that nothing should hinder them in the morning." 

The next morning (i6th) the French, in fulfillment of their 
promise, had to give the present of guns. They then endeavored 
to detain the sachems with liquor, which at any other time might 
have prevailed, but W^ashington reminded the half-king that his 



I753-] RETURN FROM VENANGO. 41 

royal word was pledged to depart, and urged it upon him so closely 
that exerting unwonted resolution and self-denial, he turned his 
back upon the liquor and embarked. 

It was rough and laborious navigation. P'rench Creek was 
swollen and turbulent, and full of floating ice. The frail canoes 
were several times in danger of being staved to pieces against 
rocks. Often the voyagers had to leap out and remain in the water 
half an hour at a time, drawing the canoes over shoals, and at one 
place to carry them a quarter of a mile across a neck of land, the 
river being completely dammed by ice. It was not until the 22d 
that they reached Venango. 

Here Washington was obliged, most unwillingly, to part company 
with the sachems. White Thunder had hurt himself and was ill 
and unable to walk, and the others determined to remain at Ven- 
ango for a day or two and convey him down the river in a canoe. 
There was danger that the smooth-tongued and convivial Joncaire 
would avail himself of the interval to ply the poor monarchs of the 
woods with flattery and liquor. Washington endeavored to put the 
worthy half-king on his guard, knowing that he had once before 
shown himself but little proof against the seductions of the 
bottle. The sachem, however, desired him not to be concerned ; 
he knew the French too well for anything to engage him in their 
favor ; nothing should shake his faith to his English brothers ; and 
it will be found that in these assurances he was sincere. 

On the 25th of December, Washington and his little party set out 
by land from Venango on their route homeward. They had a long 
winter's journey before them, through a wilderness beset with 
dangers and difficulties. The pack-horses, laden with tents, bag- 
gage, and provisions, were completely jaded ; it was feared they 
would give out. Washington dismounted, gave up his saddle-horse 
to aid in transporting the baggage, and requested his companions 
to do the same. None but the drivers remained in the saddle. 
He now equipped himself in an Indian hunting-dress, and with Van 
Braam, Gist, and John Davidson, the Indian interpreter, proceeded 
on foot. The cold increased. There was deep snow that froze as 
it fell. The horses grew less and less capable of traveling. For 
three days they toiled on slowly and wearily. Washington was 
impatient to accomplish his journey, and make his report to the 
governor ; he determined, therefore, to hasten some distance in 
advance of the party, and then strike for the Fork of the Ohio by 
the nearest course directly through the woods. He accordingly 
put the cavalcade under the command of Van Braam, and fur- 
nished him with money for expenses ; then disencumbering himself 
of all superfluous clothing, buckling himself up in a watch- 
coat, strapping his pack on his shoulders, containing his papers 
and provisions, and taking gun in hand, he left the horses 
to flounder on, and struck manfully ahead, accompanied only 
by Mr. Gist, who had equipped himself in like manner. At 
night they lit a fire, and " camped" by it in the woods. At two 
o'clock in the morning they were again on foot, and pressed for- 
ward until they struck the south-east fork of Beaver Creek, at a 



42 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

place bearing the sinister name of Murdering Town ; probably the 
scene of some Indian massacre. 

Here Washington, in planning his route, had intended to leave 
the regular path, and strike through the woods for Shannopins 
Town, two or three miles abo^'e the Fork of the Ohio, where he 
hoped to be able to cross the Allegany River on the ice. At 
Murdering Town he found a party of Indians, who appeared to have 
known of his coming, and to have been waiting for him. One of 
them accosted Mr. Gist, and expressed great joy at seeing him. 
The wary woodsman regarded him narrowly, and thought he had 
seen him at Joncaire's. If so, he and his comrades were in the 
French interest, and their lying in wait boded no good. The In- 
dian was very curious in his inquiries as to when they had left Venango ; 
how they came to be traveling on foot ; where they had left their 
horses, and when it was probable the latter would reach this place. 
All these questions increased the distrust of Gist, and rendered him 
extremely cautious in reply. 

The route hence to Shannopins Town lay through a trackless 
wild, of which the travelers knew nothing ; after some consultation, 
therefore, it was deemed expedient to engage one of the Indians as 
a guide. He entered upon his duties with alacrity, took Washing- 
ton's pack upon his back, and led the way by what he said was the 
most direct course. After traveling briskly for eight or ten miles 
W^ashington became fatigued, and his feet were chafed ; he thought, 
too, they were taking a direction too much to the north-east ; he 
came to a halt, therefore, and determined to light a fire, make a 
shelter of the bark and branches of trees, and encamp there for the 
night. The Indian demurred; he offered, as Washington was 
fatigued, to carry his gun, but the latter was too wary to part with 
his weapon. The Indian now grew churlish. There were Ottawa 
Indians in the woods, he said, who might be attracted by their fire, 
and surprise and scalp them; he urged, therefore, that they should 
continue on : he would take them to his cabin, where they would 
be safe. 

Mr. Gist's suspicions increased, but he said nothing. Washing- 
ton's also were awakened. They proceeded some distance further : 
the guide paused and listened. He had heard, he said, the report 
of a gun towards the north ; it must be from his cabin; he accord- 
ingly turned his steps in that direction. Washington began to ap- 
prehend an ambuscade of savages. He knew the hostility of many 
of them to the English, and what a desirable trophy was the scalp 
of a white man. The Indian still kept on toward the north ; he 
pretended to hear two whoops — they were from his cabin — it could 
not be far off. They went on two miles further, when Washington 
signified his determination to encamp at the first water they should 
find. The guide said nothing, but kept doggedly on. After a little 
while they arrived at an opening in the woods, and emerging from 
the deep shadows in which they had been traveling, found them- 
selves in a clear meadow, rendered still more light by the glare of 
the snow upon the ground. Scarcely had they emerged when the 
Indian, who was about fifteen paces ahead, suddenly turned, lev- 



I753-] ^^ ANXIOUS NIGHT. 43 

eled his gun, and fired. Washington was startled for an instant, 
but, feeling that he was not wounded, demanded quickly of Mr. 
Gist if he was shot. The latter answered in the negative. The 
Indian in the mean time had run forward, and screened himself 
behind a large white oak, where he was reloading his gun. They 
overtook, and seized him. Gist would have put him to death on 
the spot, but Washington humanely prevented him. They per- 
mitted him to finish the loading of his gun ; but, after he had put in 
the ball, took the weapon from him, and let him see that he was 
under guard. 

Arriving at a small stream they ordered the Indian to make a 
fire, and took turns to watch over the guns. While he was thus 
occupied. Gist, a veteran woodsman, and accustomed to hold the 
life of an Indian rather cheap, was somewhat incommoded by the 
scruples of his youthful commander, which might enable the sav- 
age to carry out some scheme of treachery. He observed to 
Washington, that, since he would not suffer the Indian to be killed, 
they must manage to get him out of the way, and then decamp 
with all speed, and travel all night to leave this perfidious neigh- 
borhood behind them ; but first it was necessary to blind the guide 
as to their intentions. He accordingly addressed him in a friendly 
tone, and adverting to the late circumstance, pretended to suppose 
that he had lost his way, and fired his gun merely as a signal. 
The Indian, whether deceived or not, readily chimed in with the 
explanation. He said he now knew the way to his cabin, which 
was at no great distance. "Well then," replied Gist, "you can 
go home, and as we are tired we will remain here for the night, and 
follow your track at daylight. In the mean time here is a cake of 
bread for you, and you must give us some meat in the morning." 

Whatever might have been the original designs of the savage, he 
was evidently glad to get off. Gist followed him cautiously for a 
distance, and listened until the sound of his footsteps died away ; 
returning then to Washington, they proceeded about half a mile, 
made another fire, set their compass and fixed their course by the 
light of it, then leaving it burning, pushed forward, and traveled 
as fast as possible all night, so as to gain a fair start should any 
one pursue them at daylight. Continuing on the next day they 
never relaxed their speed until nightfall, when they arrived on the 
banks of the Allegany River, about two miles above Shannopins 
Town. 

Washington had expected to find the river frozen completely 
over ; it was so only for about fifty yards from each shore, while 
great quantities of broken ice were driving dow-n the main channel. 
Trusting that he had out-traveled pursuit, he encamped on the 
border of the river ; still it was an anxious night, and he was up at 
daybreak to devise some means of reaching the opposite bank. 
No other mode presented itself than by a raft, and to construct this 
they had but one poor hatchet. With this they set resolutely to 
work and labored all day, but the sun went down before their raft 
Avas finished. They launched it, however, and getting on board, 
endeavored to propel it across with setting poles. Before they were 



44 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

half way over the raft became jammed between cakes of ice, and 
they were in imminent peril. Washington planted his pole on the 
bottom of the stream, and leaned against it with all his might, to 
stay the raft until the ice should pass by. The rapid current forced 
the ice against the pole with such violence that he was jerked into 
the water, where it was at least ten feet deep, and only saved him- 
self from being swept away and drowned by catching hold of one 
of the raft logs. 

It was now impossible with all their exertions to get to either 
shore; abandoning the raft, therefore, they got upon an island, 
near which they were drifting. Here they passed the night, 
exposed to intense cold, by which the hands and feet of Mr. Gist 
were frozen. In the morning they found the drift ice wedged so 
closely together, that they succeeded in getting from the island to 
the opposite side of the river ; and before night were in comforta- 
ble quarters at the house of Frazier, the Indian trader, at the 
mouth of Turtle Creek on the Monongahela. Here they learned 
from a war party of Indians that a band of Ottawas, a tribe in the 
interest of the French, had massacred a whole family of whites on 
the banks of the great Kanawha River. 

At Frazier' s they were detained two or three days endeavoring 
to procure horses. In this interval Washington had again occasion 
to exercise Indian diplomacy. About three miles distant, at the 
mouth of the Youghiogeny River, dwelt a female sachem, Queen 
Aliquippa, as the Enghsh called her, whose sovereign dignity had 
been aggrieved, that the party on their way to the Ohio, had passed 
near her royal wigwam without paying their respects to her. Aware 
of the importance, at this critical juncture, of securing the friend- 
ship of the Indians, Washington availed himself of the interruption 
of his journey, to pay a visit of ceremony to this native princess. 
Whatever anger she may have felt at past neglect, it was readily 
appeased by a present of his old watch-coat; and her good graces 
were completely secured by a bottle of rum, which, he intimates, 
appeared to be peculiarly acceptable to her majesty. 

Leaving Frazier's on the ist of January, they arrived on the 2d 
at Gist's residence i6 miles from the Monongahela. Here they 
separated, and Washington having purchased a horse, continued 
his homeward course, passing horses laden with materials and 
stores for the fort at the fork of the Ohio, and families going out to 
settle there. 

Having crossed the Blue Ridge and stopped one day at Belvoir 
to rest, he reached Williamsburg on the i6th of January, where 
he delivered to Governor Dinwiddie the letter of the French com- 
mandant, and made him a full report of the events of his mission. 

The prudence, sagacity, resolution, firmness, and self-devotion 
manifested by him throughout ; his admirable tact and self-posses- 
sion in treating with fickle savages and crafty white men ; the 
soldier's eye with which he had noticed the commanding and 
defensible points of the country, and everything that would bear 
upon military operations ; and the hardihood with which he had 
acquitted himself during a wintry tramp through the wilderness, 



1/54.] TRENT'S MISSIOiY TO THE FRONTIER. 45 

through constant storms of rain and snow ; often sleeping on the 
ground without a tent in the open air, and in danger from 
treacherous foes, — all pointed him out, not merely to the 
governor, but to the public at large, as one eminently fitted, 
notwithstanding his youth, for important trusts involving civil 
as well as mihtary duties. It is an expedition that may be 
considered the foundation of his fortunes. From that moment he 
was the rising hope of Virginia. 

The reply of the Chevalier de St. Pierre was such as might have 
been expected from that courteous, but wary commander. He 
should transmit, he said, the letter of Governor Dinwiddle to his 
general, the Marquis du Quesne, "to whom," observed he, "it 
better belongs than to me to set forth the evidence and reality of 
the rights of the king, my master, upon the lands situated along 
the river Ohio, and to contest the pretensions of the King of Great 
Britain thereto. His answer shall be a law to me. ****** 
As to the summons you send me to retire, I do not think myself 
obliged to obey it. Whatever may be your instructions, I am here 
by virtue of the orders of my general ; and I entreat you, sir, not 
to doubt one moment but that I am determined to conform myself 
to them with all the exactness and resolution which can be expected 
from the best officer. " -st * * * * 

" I made it my particular care," adds he, " to receive Mr. 
Washington with a distincdon suitable to your dignity, as well 
as his own quality and great merit. I flatter myself that he will 
do me this justice before you, sir, and that he will signify to you, in 
the manner I do myself, the profound respect with which I am, 
sir," &c. 

This soldier-like and punctihous letter of the chevalier was con- 
sidered evasive, and only intended to gain time. The information 
given by Washington of what he had observed on the frontier 
convinced Governor Dinwiddle and his council that the French 
were preparing to descend the Ohio in the spring, and take military 
possession of the country. Washington's journal was printed, and 
widely promulgated throughout the colonies and England, and 
awakened the nation to a sense of the impending danger, and the 
necessity of prompt measures to anticipate the French movements. 

Captain Trent was dispatched to the frontier, commissioned to 
raise a company of one hundred men, march with all speed to the 
Fork of the Ohio, and finish as soon as possible the fort com- 
menced there by the Ohio Company. He was enjoined to act 
only on the defensive, but to capture or destroy whoever should 
oppose the construcdon of the works, or disturb the settlements. 
The choice of Captain Trent for this service, notwithstanding his late 
inefficient expedition, was probably owing to his being brother-in- 
law to George Croghan, who had grown to be quite a personage of 
consequence on the frontier, where he had an establishment or 
trading-house, and was supposed to have great influence among 
the western tribes, so as to be able at any time to persuade many 
of them to take up the hatchet. 

Washington was empowered to raise a company of like force at 



^ 



46 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Alexandria ; to procure and forward munitions and supplies for 
the projected fort at the Fork, and ultimately to have command of 
both companies. When on the frontier he was to take council of 
George Groghan and Andrew Montour the interpreter, in all 
matters relating to the Indians, they being esteemed perfect oracles 
in that department. 

Dinwiddie convened the House of Burgesses to devise measures 
for the public security. Here, his high idea of prerogative and of 
gubernatorial dignity met with a grievous countercheck from the 
dawning spirit of independence. High as were the powers vested 
in the colonial government of Virginia, of which, though but lieuten- 
ant-governor, he had the actual control ; they were counterbalanced 
by the power inherent in the people, growing out of their situation 
and circumstances, and acting through their representatives. 

There was no turbulent factious opposition ft) government in 
Virginia; no "fierce democracy," the rank growth of crowded 
cities, and a fermenting populace ; but there was the independence 
of men, living apart in patriarchal style on their own rural 
domains : surrounded by their families, dependents and slaves, 
among whom their Avill was law, — and there was the individuality 
in character and action of men prone to nurture pecuhar notions 
and habits of thinking, in the thoughtful solitariness of country hfe. 

When Dinwiddie propounded his scheme of operations on the 
Ohio, some of the burgesses had the hardihood to doubt the claims 
of the king to the disputed territory ; a doubt which the governor 
reprobated as savoring strongly of a most disloyal French 
spirit; he fired, as he says, at the thought " that an English legis- 
lature should presume to doubt the right of his majesty to the 
interior parts of this continent, the back part of his dominions! " 

Others demurred to any grant of means for military purposes 
which might be construed into an act of hostihty. To meet this 
scruple it was suggested that the grant might be made for the pur- 
pose of encouraging and protecting all settlers on the waters of the 
Mississippi, And under this specious plea ten thousand pounds 
were grudgingly voted ; but even this moderate sum was not put 
at the absolute disposition of the governor. A committee was 
appointed, with whom he was to confer as to its appropriation. 

This precaution Dinwiddie considered an insulting invasion of the 
right he possessed as governor to control the purse as well as the 
sword ; and he complained bitterly of the assembly, as deeply 
tinctured with a republican way of thinking, and disposed to 
encroach on the prerogative of the crown, " Avhichhe feared would 
render them more and more difficult to be brought to order.'" 

Ways and means being provided, Governor DinAviddie augmented 
the number of troops to be enlisted to three hundred, divided into 
six companies. The command of the whole, as before, was offered 
to Washington, but he shrank from it, as a charge too great for his 
youth and inexperience. It was given, therefore, to Colonel 
Joshua Fry, an Enghsh gentleman of worth and education, and 
Washington was made second in command, with the rank of 
lieutenant-colonel. 



I754-] CAPTAIN ADAM STEPHEN. 47 

The recruiting, at first went on slowly. Those who offered to 
enlist, says Washington, were for the most part loose idle persons 
without house or home, some without shoes or stockings, some 
shirtless, and many without coat or waistcoat. He was young in 
the recruiting service, or he would have known that such is gener- 
ally the stuff of which armies are made. In this country especially 
it has always been difficult to enUst the active yeomanry by hold- 
ing out merely the pay of a soldier. The means of subsistence are 
too easily obtained by the industrious, for them to give up home 
and personal independence for a mere daily support. Some may 
be tempted by a love of adventure ; but in general, they require 
some prospect of uldmate advantage that may " better their con- 
dition." Governor Dinwiddle became sensible of this, and resorted 
to an expedient arising out of the natural resources of the country, 
which has since been frequently adopted, and always with efficacy. 
He proclaimed a bounty of two hundred thousand acres of land 
on the Ohio River, to be divided among the officers and soldiers 
who should engage in this expedition ; one thousand to be laid out 
contiguous to the fort at the fork, for the use of the garrison. This 
was a tempting bait to the sons of farmers, who readily enhsted in 
the hope of having, at the end of a short campaign, a snug farm 
of their own in this land of promise. 

It was a more dificult matter to get officers than soldiers. Very 
few of those appointed made their appearance ; one of the cap- 
tains had been promoted ; two declined ; Washington found him- 
self left, almost alone, to manage a number of self-willed, undis- 
ciplined recruits. Happily he had with him, in the rank of lieu- 
tenant, that soldier of fortune Jacob Van Braam, his old " master 
of fence," and traveling interpreter. In his emergency he forth- 
with nominated him captain, and wrote to the governor to confirm 
the appointment, representing him as the oldest heutenant, and an 
experienced officer. 

On the 2d of April Washington set off from Alexandria for the 
new fort, at the fork of the Ohio. He had but two companies 
with him, amounting to about one hundred and fifty men ; the 
remainder of the regiment was to follow under Colonel Fry with 
the artillery, which was to be conveyed up the Potomac. While 
on the march he was joined by a detachment under Captain Adam 
Stephen, an officer destined to serve with him at distant periods of 
his military career. At Winchester he found it impossible to obtain 
conveyances by gentle means, and was obliged reluctantly to avail 
himself of the militia law of Virginia, and impress horses and 
wagons for service ; giving the owners orders on government for 
their appraised value. Even then, out of a great number impressed, 
he obtained but ten, after waiting a week ; these, too, were grudg- 
ingly furnished by farmers with their worst horses, so that in steep 
and difficult passes they were incompetent to the draught, and the 
soldiers had continually to put their shoulders to the wheels. 

Thus slenderly fitted out, Washington and his little force made 
their way toilfully across the mountains, having to prepare the 
roads as they v.ent for the transportation of the cannon, which 



48 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

were to follow on with the other division under Colonel Fry, 
They cheered themselves with the thoughts that this hard work would 
cease when they should arrive at the company's trading-post and 
store-house at Wills' Creek, where Captain Trent was to have 
packhorses in readiness, with which they might make the rest of 
the way by light stages. Before arriving there they were startled 
by a rumor that Trent and all his men had been captured by the 
French. With regard to Trent, the news soon proved to be false, 
for they found him at Wills' Creek on the 20th of April. With 
regard to his men there was still an uncertainty. He had recently 
left them at the fork of the Ohio, busily at work on the fort, under 
the command of his lieutenant, Frazier, late Indian trader and gun- 
smith, but now a provincial officer. If the men had been captured, 
it must have been since the captain's departure. Washington was 
eager to press forward and ascertain the truth, but it was impossible. 
Trent, inefficient as usual, had failed to provide packhorses. It 
was necessary to send to Winchester, sixty miles distant, for bag- 
gage wagons, and await their arrival. AH uncertainty as to the 
fate of the men, however, was brought to a close by their arrival, 
on the 25th, conducted by an ensign, and bringing with them their 
working implements. The French might well boast that they had 
again been too quick for the Enghsh. Captain Contrecceur, an 
alert officer, had embarked about a thousand men with field-pieces, 
in a fleet of sixty bateaux and three hundred canoes, dropped 
down the river from Venango, and suddenly made his appearance 
before the fort, on which the men w-ere working, and which was 
not half completed. Landing, drawing up his men, and planting 
his artillery, he summoned the fort to surrender, allowing one hour 
for a written reply. 

What was to be done ! the whole garrison did not exceed fifty 
men. Captain Trent was absent at Wills' Creek ; Frazier, his 
lieutenant, was at his own residence at Turtle Creek, ten miles dis- 
tant. There was no officer to reply but a young ensign of the 
name of W^ard. In his perplexity he turned for counsel to Tana- 
charisson, the half-king, who was present in the fort. The chief 
advised the ensign to plead insufficiency of rank and powers, and 
crave delay until the arrival of his superior officer. The ensign 
repaired to the French camp to offer this excuse in person, and 
was accompanied by the half-king. They were courteously 
received, but Contrecceur was inflexible. There must be instant 
surrender, or he would take forcible possession. All that the 
ensign could obtain was permission to depart with his men, taking 
with them their working tools. The capitulation ended. Contre- 
cceur, with true French gayety, invited the ensign to sup with him; 
treated him with the utmost politeness, and wished him a pleasant 
journey, as he set off the next morning with his men laden with 
their w^orking tools. 

Such was the ensign's story. He was accompanied by two 
Indian warriors, sent by the half-king to ascertain where the 
detachment was, what was its strength, and when it might be 
expected at the Ohio. They bore a speech from that sachem to 



1754.] LEGISLATIVE CROSS-PURPOSES. 49 

Washington, and another, with a belt of wampum for the Governor 
of Virginia. In these he phghtedhis steadfast faith to the Enghsh, 
and claimed assistance from his brothers of Virginia and Penn- 
sylvania. 

One of these warriors Washington forwarded on with the speech 
and wampum to Governor Dinwiddie. The other he prevailed on 
to return to the half-king, bearing a speech from him, addressed to 
the "Sachems, warriors of the Six United Nations, Shannoahs and 
Delawares, our friends and brethren." In this he informed them 
that he was on the advance with a part of the army, to clear the 
road for a greater force coming with guns, ammunition, and pro- 
visions ; and he invited the half-king and another sachem to meet 
him on the road as soon as possible to hold a council. 

In fact, his situation was arduous in the extreme. Regarding 
the conduct of the French in the recent occurrence an overt act of 
war, he found himself thrown with a handful of raw recruits far 
on a hostile frontier, in the midst of a wilderness, with an enemy 
at hand greatly superior in number and discipline ; provided with 
artillery, and all the munitions of war, and within reach of con- 
stant supplies and reinforcements. Beside the French that had come 
from Venango, he had received credible accounts of another party 
ascending the Ohio; and of six hundred Chippewas and Ottawas 
marching down Scioto Creek to join the hostile camp. 

Still, notwithstanding the accumulating danger, it would not 
do to fall back, nor show signs of apprehension. His Indian 
aUies in such case might desert him. The soldiery, too, might 
grow restless and dissatisfied. He was already annoyed by Cap- 
tain Trent's men, who, having enhsted as volunteers, considered 
themselves exempt from the rigor of martial law ; and by their 
example of loose and refractory conduct, threatened to destroy the 
subordination of his own troops. In this dilemma he called a 
council of war, in which it was determined to proceed to the Ohio 
Company store-house, at the mouth of Redstone Creek ; fortify 
themselves there, and wait for reinforcements. Here they might 
keep up a vigilant watch upon the enemy, and get notice of any 
hostile movement in time for defence, or retreat ; and should they 
be reinforced sufficiently to enable them to attack the fort, they 
could easily drop down the river with their artillery. 

With these alternatives in view Washington detached sixty men 
in advance to make a road ; and at the same time wrote to Gover- 
nor Dinwiddie for mortars and grenadoes, and cannon of heavy 
metal. 

Aware that the Assembly of Pennsylvania was in session, and 
that the Maryland Assembly would also meet in the course of a 
few days, he wrote directly to the governors of those provinces, 
acquainting them with the hostile acts of the French, and with his 
perilous situation ; and endeavoring to rouse them to co-operation 
in the common cause. We will here note in advance that his let- 
ter was laid before the Legislature of Pennsylvania, and a bill 
was about to be passed making appropriations for the service of the 
king ; but it fell through, in consequence of a disagreement be- 



50 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

tween the Assembly and the governor as to the mode in which 
the money should be raised ; and so no assistance was furnished 
to Washington from that quarter. The youthful commander had 
here a foretaste, in these his incipient campaigns, of the perils and 
perplexities which awaited him from enemies in the field, and 
lax friends in legislative councils in the grander operations of his 
future years. Before setting off for Redstone Creek, he discharged 
Trent's refractory men from his detachment, ordering them to 
await Colonel Fry's commands; they, however, in the true spirit 
of volunteers from the backwoods, dispersed to their several 
homes. 

On the 29th of April Washington set out from Wills' Creek at 
the head of one hundred and sixty men. He soon overtook those 
sent in advance to work the road ; they had made but little 
progress. It was a difficult task to break a road through the 
wilderness sufficient for the artillery coming on with Colonel Fry's 
division. All hands were now set to work, but with all their labor 
they could not accomplish more than four miles a day. They 
were toiling through Savage Mountain and that dreary forest 
region beyond it, since bearing the sinister name of "The Shades 
of Death." On the 9th of May they were not further than twenty 
miles from Wills' Creek, at a place called the Little Meadows. 

Every day came gloomy accounts from the Ohio ; brought 
chiefly by traders, who, with packhorses bearing their effects, were 
retreating to the more settled parts of the country. Some exag- 
gerated the number of the French, as if strongly reinforced. All 
represented them as diligently at work constructing a fort. By 
their account W^ashington perceived the French had chosen the 
very place which he had noted in his journal as best fitted for the 
purpose. 

One of the traders gave information concerning La Force, the 
French emissary, who had beset Washington when on his mission 
to the frontier, and acted, as he thought, the part of a spy. He 
had been at Gist's new settlement beyond Laurel Hill, and was 
prowling about the country with four soldiers at his heels on a pre- 
tended hunt after deserters. Washington suspected him to be on a 
reconnoitering expedition. 

It was reported, moreover, that the French were lavishing 
presents on the Indians about the lower part of the river, to draw 
them to their standard. Among all these flying reports and alarms 
Washington was gratified to learn that the half-king was on his 
way to meet him at the head of fifty warriors. 

After infinite toil through swamps and forests, and over rugged 
mountains, the detachment arrived at the Youghiogeny River, 
where they were detained some days constructing a bridge to 
cross it. 

This gave Washington leisure to correspond with Governor 
Dinwiddie, concerning matters which had deeply annoyed him. 
By an ill-judged economy of the Virginia government at this criti- 
cal juncture, its provincial officers received less pay than that 
allowed in the regular armv. It is true the regular officers were 




WILLIAM PENK. 



1754.] LURKING FOES. 51 

obliged to furnish their own table, but their supeiior pay enabled 
them to do it luxuriously ; whereas the provincials were obliged to 
do hard duty on salt provisions and water. The provincial officers 
resented this inferiority of pay as an indignity, and declared that 
nothing prevented them from throwing up their commissions but 
unwillingness to recede before approaching danger. " For my 
own part," writes he to his friend Colonel Fairfax, "it is a matter 
almost indifferent whether I serve for full pay or as a generous 
volunteer; indeed, did my circumstances correspond with my in- 
clinations, I should not hesitate a moment to prefer the latter ; for 
the motives that have led nie here are pure and tioble. I had no 
view of acquisition but that of honor, by serving faithfully my 
king and country.'' 

Such were the noble impulses of Washington at the age of twenty- 
two, and such continued to actuate him throughout life. We have 
put the latter part of the quotation in italics, as applicable to the 
motives which in after life carried him into the Revolution. 

While the bridge over the Youghiogeny was in the course of con- 
struction, the Indians assured W^ashington he would never be able 
to open a Avagon-road across the mountains to Redstone Creek ; he 
embarked therefore in a canoe with a lieutenant, three soldiers, 
and an Indian guide, to try whether it was possible to descend the 
river. They had not descended above ten miles before the Indian 
refused to go further. Washington soon ascertained the reason. 
" Indians," said he, "expect presents — nothing can be done with- 
out them. The French take this method. If you want one or 
more to conduct a party, to discover the country, to hunt, or for 
any particular purpose, they must be bought ; their friendship is 
not so warm as to prompt them to these services gratis." The In- 
dian guide, in the present instance, was propitiated by the promise 
of one of Washington's ruffled shirts, and a watch-coat. 

The river was bordered by mountains and obstructed by rocks 
and rapids. Indians might thread such a labyrinth in their light 
canoes, but it would never admit the transportation of troops and 
military stores. Washington kept on for thirty miles, until he 
came to a place where the river fell nearly forty feet in the space of 
fifty yards. There he ceased to explore, and returned to camp, 
resolving to continue forward by land. 

On the 23d Indian scouts brought word that the French were not 
above eight hundred strong, and that about half their number had 
been detached at night on a secret expedition. Close upon this re- 
port came a message from the half-king, addressed " to the first of 
his majesty's officers whom it may concern. It is reported," 
said he, " that the French army is coming to meet Major Washing- 
ton. Be on your guard against them, my brethren, for they intend 
to strike the first English they shall see. They have been on their 
march two days. I know not their number. The half-king and 
the rest of the chiefs will be with you in five days to hold a 
council." 

In the evening Washington was told that the French were cross- 
ing the ford of the Youghiogeny about eighteen miles distant. He 



52 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

now hastened to take a position in a place called the Great 
Meadows, where he caused the bushes to be cleared away, made 
an intrenchment, and prepared what he termed " a charming field 
for an encounter." 

A party of scouts were mounted on wagon horses, and sent out 
to reconnoiter. They returned without having seen an enemy. 
A sensitiveness prevailed in the camp. They were surrounded by 
forests, threatened by unseen foes, and hourly in danger of sur- 
prise. There was an alarm about two o'clock in the night. 
The sentries fired upon what they took to be prowling foes. The 
troops sprang to arms, and remained on the alert until day- 
break. Not an enemy was to be seen. The roll was called. Six 
men were missing, who had deserted. 

About nine o'clock at night came an Indian messenger from the 
half-king, who Avas encamped with several of his people about six 
miles off. The chief had seen tracks of two Frenchmen, and was 
convinced their whole body must be in ambush near by. Wash- 
ington considered this the force which had been hovering about 
him for several days, and determined to forestall their hostile 
designs. Leaving a guard with the baggage and ammunition, he 
set out before ten o'clock, with forty men, to join his Indian ally. 
They groped their way in single file, by footpaths through the 
woods, in a heavy rain and murky darkness, tripping occasionally 
and stumbling over each other, sometimes losing the track for 
fifteen or twenty minutes, so that it was near sunrise when they 
reached the camp of the half-king. That chieftain received the 
youthful commander with great demonstrations of friendship, and 
engaged to go hand in hand with him against the lurking enemy. 
He set out accordingly, accompanied by a few of his warriors and 
his associate sachem Scarooyadi or Monacatoocha, and conducted 
Washington to the tracks which he had discovered. Upon these 
he put two of his Indians. They followed them up like hounds, 
and brought back word that they had traced them to a low bottom 
surrounded by rocks and trees, where the French were encamped, 
having built a few cabins for shelter from the rain. 

A plan was now concerted to come upon them by surprise ; 
Washington with his men on the right ; the half-king with his war- 
riors on the left ; all as silently as possible. Washington was the 
first upon the ground. As he advanced from among the rocks and 
trees at the head of his men, the French caught sight of him and 
ran to their arms. A sharp firing instantly took place, and was 
kept upon both sides for about fifteen minutes. Washington and his 
party were most exposed and received all the enemy's fire. The 
balls whistled around him ; one man was killed close by him, and 
three others wounded. The French at length, having lost several 
of their number, gave way and ran. They were soon overtaken ; 
twenty-one were captured, and but one escaped, a Canadian, who 
carried the tidings of the affair to the fort on the Ohio. The In- 
dians would have massacred the prisoners had not Washington 
prevented them. Ten of the French had fallen in the skirmish, 
and one been wounded. Washington's loss was the one killed and 



1 7 54-] SKIRMISH WITH JUMONVILLE. 53 

three wounded which we have mentioned. He had been in the 
hottest fire, and having for the first time heard balls whistle about 
him, considered his escape miraculous, Jumonville, the French 
leader, had been shot through the head at the first fire. He was 
a young officer of merit, and his fate was made the subject 
of lamentation in prose and verse — chiefly through political 
motives. 

Of the twenty-one prisoners the two most important were an 
officer of some consequence named Urouillon, and the subtle and 
redoubtable La Force. As Washington considered the latter an 
arch mischief-maker, he was rejoiced to have him in his power. 
La Force and his companion would fain have assumed the sacred 
character of ambassadors, pretending they were coming with a 
summons to him to depart from the territories belonging to the 
crown of France. 

Unluckily for their pretensions, a letter of instructions, found on 
Jumonville, betrayed their real errand, which was to inform them- 
selves of the roads, rivers, and other features of the country as far 
as the Potomac ; to send back from time to time, by fleet messen- 
gers, all. the information they could collect, and to give word of the 
day on which they intended to serve the summons. 

It would seem that La Force, after all, was but an instrument in 
the hands of his commanding officers, and not in their full confi- 
dence ; for when the commission and instructions found on Jumon- 
ville were read before him, he professed not to have seen them 
before, and acknowledged, with somewhat of an air of ingenuous- 
ness, that he believed they had a hostile tendency. 

Upon the whole, it was the opinion of Washington and his offi- 
cers that the summons, on which so much stress was laid, was a 
mere specious pretext to mask their real designs and be used as 
occasion might require. "That they were spies rather than any- 
thing else," and were to be treated as prisoners of war. 

The half-king joined heartily in this opinion ; indeed, had the 
fate of the prisoners been in his hands, neither diplomacy nor any- 
thing else would have been of avail. "They came with hostile 
intentions, he said; "they had bad hearts, and if his English 
brothers were so foolish as to let them go, he would never aid in 
taking another Frenchman." 

The prisoners were accordingly conducted to the camp at the 
Great Meadows, and sent on the following day (29th), under a 
strong escort to Governor Dinwiddie, then at Winchester. Wash- 
ington had treated them with great courtesy ; had furnished 
Drouillon and La Force with clothing from his own scanty stock, 
and, at their request, given them letters to the governor, bespeaking 
for them "the respect and favor due to their character and personal 
merit." 

A sense of duty, however, obliged him, in his general dispatch, 
to put the governor on his guard against La Force. " I really 
think, if released, he would do more to our disservice than fifty 
other men, as he is a person whose active spirit leads him into all 
parties, and has brought him acquainted with all parts of the 



54 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

country. Add to this a perfect knowledge of the Indian tongue, 
and great influence with the Indians." 

The situation of Washington was now extremely perilous. Con- 
trecceur, it was said, had nearly a thousand men with him at the 
fort, beside Indian allies ; and reinforcements were on the way to 
join him. The messengers sent by Jumonville, previous to the late 
affair, must have apprised him of the weakness of the encampment 
on the Great Meadows. Washington hastened to strengthen it. 
He wrote by express also to Colonel Fry, who lay ill at Wills' 
Creek, urging instant reinforcements ; but declaring his resolution 
to " fight with very unequal numbers rather than give up one inch 
of what he had gained." 

The half-king was full of fight. He sent the scalps of the French- 
men slain in the late skirmish, accompanied by black wampum 
and hatchets, to all his allies, summoning them to take up arms 
and join him at Redstone Creek, " for their brothers, the Enghsh, 
had now begun in earnest." It is said he would even have sent 
the scalps of the prisoners had not Washington interfered. He 
went off for his home, promising to send down the river for all 
the Mingoes and Shawnees, and to be back at the camp on the 
30th, with thirty or forty warriors, accompanied by their wives and 
children. To assist him in the transportation of his people and 
their effects thirty men were detached, and twenty horses. 

" I shall expect every hour to be attacked," writes Washington 
to Governor Dinwiddle, on the 29th, and by unequal numbers, 
which I must withstand, if there are five to one, for I fear the 
consequence will be that we shall lose the Indians if we suffer our- 
selves to be driven back. Your honor may depend I will not be 
surprised, let them come at what hour they will, and this is as much 
as I can promise ; but my best endeavors shall not be wanting to 
effect more. I doubt not, if you hear I am beaten, but you will 
hear at the same time that we have done our duty in fighting as 
long as there is a shadow of hope." 

The fact is, that Washington was in a high state of military 
excitement. He was a young soldier; had been for the first time 
in action, and been successful. The letters we have already 
quoted show, in some degree, the fervor of his mind, and his readi- 
ness to brave the worst ; but a short letter, written to one of his 
brothers, on the 31st, lays open the recesses of his heart. 

"We expect every hour to be attacked by superior force ; but 
if they forbear but one day longer we shall be prepared for them. 
* * "^ * We have already got intrenchments, and are about a pali- 
sade, which, I hope will be finished to-day. The Mingoes have 
struck the French, and, I hope, will give a good blow before they 
have done. I exp%ct forty odd of them here to-night, which, with 
our fort, and some reinforcements from Colonel Fry, will enable us 
to exert our noble courage with spirit." 

Alluding in a postscript to the late affair, he adds : "I fortunately 
escaped without any wound; for the right wing, where I stood, was 
exposed to, and received, all the enemy's fire; and it was the part 
where the man was killed and the rest wounded. / /leard the 



1754.] INDEPENDENT COMPANIES. 55 

bullets whistle^ and, believe me, there is something charming in 
the sound.'''' 

Washington being asked, many years afterward, whether he 
really had made such a speech about the whisthng of bullets," If 
I said so," replied he quietly, "it was when I was young." He 
was indeed, but twenty -two years old when he said it ; it was just 
after his first battle ; he was flushed with success, and was writing 
to a brother. 

Scarcity began to prevail in the camp. Contracts had been 
made with George Croghan for flour, which he had large quantities 
at his frontier establishment ; for he was now trading with the army 
as well as with the Indians. None, however, made its appearance. 
There was mismanagement in the commissariat. At one time the 
troops were six days without flour ; and even then had only a cas- 
ual supply from an Ohio trader. In this time of scarcity the half- 
king, his fellow sachem, Scarooyadi, and thirty or forty warriors, 
arrived, bringing with them their wives and children — so many 
more hungry mouths to be supplied. Washington wrote urgently 
to Croghan to send forward all the flour he could furnish. 

By the death of Fry, at Wills* Creek, the command of the regi- 
ment devolved on Washington. Finding a blank major's commis- 
sion among Fry's papers, he gave it to Captain Adam Stephen, 
vAxo had conducted himself with spirit. As there would necessarily 
be other changes, he wrote to Governor Dinwiddie in behalf of 
Jacob Van Braam. "He has acted as captain ever since we left 
Alexandria. He is an experienced officer, and worthy of the com- 
mand he has enjoyed." 

The palisaded fort was now completed, and was named Fort 
Necessity, from the pinching famine that had prevailed during its 
construction. The scanty force in camp was augmented to three 
hundred, by the arrival from Wills' Creek of the men who had 
been under Colonel Fry. With them came the surgeon of the reg- 
iment, Dr. James Craik, a Scotchman by birth, and one destined 
to become a faithful and confidential friend of Washington for the 
remainder of his life. 

On the 9th arrived Washington's early instructor in military tac- 
tics, Adjutant Muse, recently appointed a major in the regiment. 
He was accompanied by Montour, the Indian interpreter, now a 
provincial captain, and brought with him nine swivels, and a small 
supply of pow^der and ball. Fifty or sixty horses were forthwith 
sent to Wills' Creek, to bring on further supplies, and Mr. Gist was 
urged to hasten forward the artillery. 

Major Muse was likewise the bearer of a belt of wampum and a 
speech, from Governor Dinwiddie to the half-king; with medals 
for the chiefs, and goods for presents among the friendly Indians, 
a measure which had been suggested by Washington. They were 
distributed with that grand ceremonial so dear to the red man. 
The chiefs assembled, painted and decorated in all their savage 
finery ; W^ashington wore a medal sent to him by the governor for 
such occasions. The wampum and speech having been delivered, 
he advanced, and with all due solemnity, decorated the chiefs and 



56 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

warriors with the medals, which they were to wear in remembrance 
of their father the King of England. 

Among the warriors thus decorated was a son of Queen 
Aliquippa, the savage princess whose good graces Washington had 
secured in the preceding year, by the present of an old watch-coat, 
and whose friendship was important, her town being at no great 
distance from the French fort. She had requested that her son 
might be admitted into the war councils of the camp, and receive 
an English name. The name of Fairfax was accordingly given 
to him, in the customary Indian form ; the half-king being desir- 
ous of life distinction, received the name of Dinwiddie. The 
sachems returned the compliment in kind, by giving Washington 
the name of Connotaucarius ; the meaning of which is not 
explained. 

William Fairfax, Washington's paternal adviser, had recently 
counseled him by letter, to have public prayers in his camp ; 
especially when there were Indian families there ; this was accord- 
ingly done at the encampment in the Great Meadows, and it cer- 
tainly was not one of the least striking pictures presented in this wild 
campaign — the youthful commander, presiding with calm serious- 
ness over a motly assemblage of half-equipped soldiery, leathern- 
clad hunters and woodsmen, and painted savages with their wives 
and children, and uniting them all in solemn devotion by his own 
example and demeanor. 

On the loth there was agitation in the camp. Scouts hurried in 
with word, as Washington understood them, that a party of ninety 
Frenchmen were approaching. He instantly ordered t)ut a hun- 
dred and fifty of his best men ; put himself at their head, and 
leaving Major Muse M'ith the rest, to man the fort and mount the 
swivels, sallied forth "in the full hope" as he afterward wrote to 
Governor Dinwiddie, "of procuring him another present of French 
prisoners." 

It was another effervescence of his youthful mihtary ardor, and 
doomed to disappointment. The report of the scouts had been 
either exaggerated or misunderstood. The ninety Frenchmen in 
military array dwindled down into nine French deserters. Accord- 
ing to their account, the fort at the fork was completed, and named 
Duquesne, in honor of the Governor of Canada. It was proof 
against all attack, excepting with bombs, on the land side. The 
garrison did not exceed five hundred, but two hundred more were 
hourly expected, and nine hundred in the course of a fortnight. 

Washington's suspicions with respect to La Force's party were 
justified by the report of these deserters ; they had been sent out 
as spies, and were to show the summons if discovered or overpow- 
ered. The French commander, they added, had been blamed for 
sending out so small a party. 

On the same day Captain Mackay arrived, with an independent 
company of South Carolinians. The captain was civil and well 
disposed, but full of formalities and points of etiquette. Holding 
a commission direct from the king, he could not bring himself to 
acknowledge a provincial officer as his superior. He encamped 



1 754-] RETREAT TO THE GREAT MEADOWS. 57 

separately, kept separate guards, would not agree that Washington 
should assign any rallying place for his men in case of alarm, 
and objected to receive from him the parole and countersign, 
though necessary for their common safety. 

Washington conducted himself with circumspection, avoiding 
everything that might call up a question of command, and reason- 
ing calmly whenever such question occurred ; but he urged the 
governor by letter, to prescribe their relative rank and authority. 
" He thinks you have not a power to g^ve commissions that will 
command him. If so, I can very confidently say that his absence 
would tend to the pubhc advantage." 

On the nth of June, Washington resumed the laborious march 
for Redstone Creek. As Captain Mackay could not oblige his men 
to work on the road unless they were allowed a shilling sterling a 
day ; and as Washington did not choose to pay this, nor to suffer 
them to march at their ease while his own faithful soldiers were 
laboriously employed; he left the captain and his Independent 
company as a guard at Fort Necessity, and undertook to complete 
the military road with his own men. 

Accordingly, he and his Virginia troops toiled forward through 
the narrow defiles of the mountains, working on the road as they 
went. Scouts were sent out in all directions, to prevent surprise. 
While on the march he was continually beset by sachems, with their 
tedious ceremonials and speeches, all to very little purpose. Some 
of these chiefs were secretly in the French interest ; few rendered 
any real assistance, and all expected presents. 

At Gist's- establishment, about thirteen miles from Fort Neces- 
sity, Washington received certain intelligence that ample reinforce- 
ments had arrived at Fort Duquesne, and a large force would 
instantly be detached against him. Coming to a halt, he began to 
throw up intrenchments, calling in two foraging parties, and send- 
ing word to Captain Mackay to join him with all speed. The cap- 
tain and his company arrived in the evening, the foraging parties 
the next morning. A council of war was held, in which the idea 
of awaiting the enemy at this place was unanimously abandoned. 

A rapid and toilsome retreat ensued. There was a deficiency of 
horses. Washington gave up his own to aid in transporting the 
miUtary munitions, leaving his baggage to be brought on by sol- 
diers, whom he paid liberally. The other officers followed his 
example. The weather was sultry ; the roads were rough ; pro- 
visions were scanty, and the men dispirited by hunger. The Vir- 
ginian soldiers took turns to drag the swivels, but felt almost 
insulted by the conduct of the South Carohnians, who, piquing 
themselves upon their assumed privileges as " king's soldiers," 
sauntered along at their ease ; refusing to act as pioneers, or par- 
ticipate in the extra labors incident to a hurried retreat. 

On the 1st of July they reached the Great Meadows. Here the 
Virginians, exhausted by fatigue, hunger, and vexation, declared 
they would carry the baggage and drag the swivels no further. 
Contrary to his original intentions, therefore, Washington deter- 
mined to halt here for the present, and fortify, sending off 



58 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

expresses to hasten supplies and reinforcements from Wills* Creek, 
where he had reason to believe that two independent companies 
from New York were by this time arrived. 

The retreat to the Great Meadows had not been in the least too 
precipitate. Captain de Villiers, a brother-in-law of Jumonville, 
had actually sallied forth from Fort Duquesne at the head of 
upward of five hundred French, and several hundred Indians, 
eager to avenge the death of his relative. Arriving about dawn 
of day at Gist's plantation, he surrounded the works which Wash- 
ington had hastily thrown up there, and fired into them. Finding 
them deserted, he concluded that those of whom he came in search 
had made good their retreat to the settlements, and it was too late 
to pursue them. He was on the point of returning to Fort 
Duquesne, when a deserter arrived, who gave word that Wash- 
ington had come to a halt in the Great Meadows, where his troops 
were in a starving condition ; for his own part, he added, hearing 
that the French were coming, he had deserted to them to escape 
starvation. De Villiers ordered the fellow into confinement; to be 
rewarded if his words proved true, otherwise to be hanged. He 
then pushed forward for the Great Meadows. 

In the mean time Washington had exerted himself to enlarge 
and strengthen Fort Necessity, nothing of which had been done 
by Captain Mackay and his men, while encamped there. The 
fort was about a hundred feet square, protected by trenches and 
palisades. It stood on the margin of a small stream, nearly in the 
centre of the Great Meadows, which is a grassy plain, perfectly 
level, surrounded by wooded hills of a moderate height, and at 
that place about two hundred and fifty yards wide. W^ashington 
asked no assistance from the South Carolina troops, but set to 
work with his Virginians, animating them by word and example ; 
sharing in the labor of felling trees, hewing off the branches, and 
rolling up the trunks to form a breastwork. 

At this critical juncture he was deserted by his Indian allies. 
They were disheartened at the scanty preparations for defence 
against a superior force, and offended at being subjected to mili- 
tary command. The half-king thought he had not been suffi- 
ciently consulted, and that his advice had not been sufficiently fol- 
lowed ; such, at least, were some of the reasons which he subse- 
quently gave for abandoning the youthful commander on the 
approach of danger. The true reason was a desire to put his wife 
and children in a place of safety. Most of his warriors followed 
his example ; very few, and those probably who had no families 
at risk, remained in the camp. 

Early in the morning of the 3d, while Washington and his men 
were working on the fort, a sentinel came in wounded and bleed- 
ing, having been fired upon. Scouts brought word shortly after- 
M'ard that the French were in force, about four miles off. Wash- 
ington drew up his men on level ground outside of the works, to 
await their attack. About 11 o'clock there was a firing of mus- 
ketry from among trees on rising ground, but so distant as to do no 
harm ; suspecting this to be a strategem designed to draw his men 



1 753-] ^ TTA CK OF FOR T NECESSITY. 59 

into the woods, he ordered them to keep quiet, and refrain from 
firing until tlie foe should show themselves, and draw near. 

The firing was kept up, but still under cover. He now fell back 
with his men into the trenches, ordering them to fire whenever they 
could get sight of an enemy. In this way there was skirmishing 
throughout the day ; the French and Indians advancing as near 
as the covert of the woods would permit, which in the nearest place 
was sixty yards, but never into open sight. In the meanwhile the 
rain fell in torrents; the harassed and jaded troops were half 
drowned in their trenches, and many of their muskets were ren- 
dered unfit for use. About eight at night the French requested a 
parley. Washington hesitated. It might be a stratagem to gain 
admittance for a spy into the fort. The request was repeated, with 
the addition that an officer might be sent to treat with them, under 
their parole for his safety. Unfortunately the Chevaher de Pey- 
rouney, engineer of the regiment, and the only one who could 
speak French correctly, was wounded and disabled. Washington 
had to send, therefore, his ancient swordsman and interpreter, 
Jacob Van Braam. The captain returned twice with separate 
terms, in which the garrison was required to surrender ; both were 
rejected. He returned a third time, with written articles of capitu- 
lation. They were in French. As no implements for writing were 
at hand, Van Braam undertook to translate them by word of mouth. 
A candle was brought, and held close to the paper while he read. 
The rain fell in torrents ; it was difificult to keep the light from 
being extinguished. The captain rendered the capitulation, article 
by article, in mongrel English, while Washington and his of^cers 
stood listening, endeavoring to disentangle the meaning. One 
article stipulated that on surrendering the fort they should leave all 
their mihtary stores, munitions, and artillery in possession of the 
French. This was objected to, and was readily modified. 

The main articles, as Washington and his officers understood 
them, were, that they should be allowed to return to the settlements 
without molestation from French or Indians. That they should 
march out of the fort with the honors of war, drums beating and 
colors flying, and with all their effects and military stores excepting 
the artillery, which should be destroyed. That they should be 
allowed to deposit their effects in some secret place, and leave a 
guard to protect them until they could send horses to bring them 
away ; their horses having been nearly all killed or lost during the 
action. That they should give their word of honor not to attempt 
any buildings or improvements on the lands of his most Chiistian 
Majesty, for the space of a year. That the prisoners taken in the 
skirmish of Jumonville should be restored, and until their delivery 
Captain Van Braam and Captain Stobo should remain with the 
French as hostages. 

The next morning accordingly, Washington and his men marched 
out of their forlorn fortress with the honors of war, bearing with 
them their regimental colors, but leaving behind a large flag, too 
cumbrous to be transported. Scarcely had they begun their 
march, however, when, in defiance of the terms of capitulation, 



6o LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

they were beset by a large body of Indians, allies of the French, 
who began plundering the baggage, and committing other irregu- 
larities. Seeing that the French did not, or could not, prevent 
them, and that all the baggage which could not be transported on 
the shoulders of his troops would fall into the hands of these sav- 
ages, Washington ordered it to be destroyed, as well as the artillery, 
gunpowder, and other military stores. All this detained him until 
ten o'clock, when he set out on his melancholy march. He had 
not proceeded above a mile when two or three of the wounded men 
were reported to be missing. He immediately detached a few men 
back in quest of them, and continued on until three miles from 
Fort Necessity, where he encamped for the night, and was rejoined 
by the stragglers. 

In this affair, out of the Virginia regiment, consisting of three 
hundred and five men, officers included, twelve had been killed, 
and forty-three wounded. The number killed and wounded in 
Captain Mackay's company is not known. The loss of the French 
and Indians is supposed to have been much greater. 

In the following day's march the troops seemed jaded and dis- 
heartened ; they were encumbered and delayed by the wounded; 
provisions were scanty, and they had seventy weary miles to 
accomphsh before they could meet with supphes. Washington, 
however, encouraged them by his own steadfast and cheerful 
demeanor, and by sharing all their toils and privations ; and at 
length conducted them in safety to Wills' Creek, where they found 
ample provisions in the miUtary magazines. Leaving them here 
to recover their strength, he proceeded with Captain Mackay to 
Williamsburg, to make his military report to the governor. 

A copy of the capitulation was subsequently laid before the Vir- 
ginia House of Burgesses, with explanations. Notwithstanding the 
unfortunate result of the campaign, the conduct of Washington and 
his officers was properly appreciated, and they received a vote of 
thanks for their bravery, and gallant defence of their country. 
Three hundred pistoles (nearly eleven hundred dollars) also 
were voted to be distributed among the privates who had been in 
action. 

From the vote of thanks, two officers were excepted; Major 
Muse, who was charged with cowardice, and Washington's unfor- 
tunate master of fence and blundering interpreter, Jacob Van 
Braam, who was accused of treachery, in purposely misinterpret- 
ing the articles of capitulation. 

In concluding this chapter, we will anticipate dates to record the 
fortunes of the half-king after his withdrawal from the camp. He 
and several of his warriors, with their wives and children, retreated 
to Aughquick, in the back part of Pennsylvania, where George 
Croghan had an agency, and was allowed money from time to 
time for the maintenance of Indian allies ; he expressed himself 
perfectly disgusted with the white man's mode of warfare. The 
French, he said, were cowards ; the English, fools. Washington 
was a good man, but wanted experience: he would not take advice 
of the Indians, and was always driving them to fight according to 



I754-] FORT CUMBERLAND. 6l 

his own notions. For this reason he (the half-king) had carried 
off his wife and children to a place of safety. 

After a time the chieftain fell dangerously ill, and a conjurer or 
"medicine man" was summoned to inquire into the cause or 
nature of his malady. He gave it as his opinion that the French 
had bewitched him, in revenge for the great blow he had struck 
them in the affair of Jumonville ; for the Indians gave him the 
whole credit of that success, he having sent round the French 
scalps as trophies. In the opinion of the conjurer all the friends of 
the chieftain concurred, and on his death, which took place shortly 
afterward, there was great lamentation, mingled with threats of 
immediate vengeance. Early in August Washington rejoined his 
regiment, which had arrived at Alexandria by the way of Win- 
chester. Letters from Governor Dinwiddle urged him to recruit it 
to the former number of three hundred men, and join Colonel 
Innes at Wills' Creek, where that officer was stationed with 
Mackay's independent company of South Carolinians, and two 
independent companies from New York ; and had been employed 
in erecting a work to serve as a frontier post and rallying point ; 
which work received the name of Fort Cumberland, in honor of 
the Duke of Cumberland, captain-general of the British army. 

In the month of October the House of Burgesses made a grant of 
twenty thousand pounds for the pubhc service ; and ten thousand 
more were sent out from England, beside a supply of fire- 
arms. The governor now applied himself to military matters with 
renewed spirit ; increased the actual force to ten companies ; and, 
as there had been difficulties among the different Idnds of troops 
with regard to precedence, he reduced them all to independent 
companies ; so that there would be no officer in a Virginian regi- 
ment above the rank of captain. 

This shrewd measure, upon which Dinwiddic secretly prided him- 
self as calculated to put an end to the difficulties in question, im- 
mediately drove Washington out of the service ; considering it de- 
rogatory to his character to accept a lower commission than that 
under which his conduct had gained him a vote of thanks from the 
Legislature. 

Governor Sharpe, of Maryland, appointed by the king com- 
mand-in-chief of all the forces engaged against the French, sought 
to secure his valuable services, and authorized Colonel Fitzhugh, 
whom he had placed in temporary command of the army, to write 
to him to that effect. The reply of Washington (15th Nov.) is full 
of dignity and spirit, and shows how deeply he felt his military deg- 
radation. 

"You make mention," says he, " of my continuing in the ser- 
vice and retaining my colonel's commission. This idea has filled 
me with surprise ; for if you think me capable of holding a com- 
mission that has neither rank nor emolument annexed to it, you 
must maintain a very contemptible opinion of my weakness, and be- 
lieve me more empty than the commission itself." After intimat- 
ing a suspicion that the project of reducing the regiment into inde- 
pendent companies, and thereby throwing out the higher officers, 



62 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

was "generated and hatched at Wills' Creek," — in other words, 
was an expedient of Governor Dinwiddle, instead of being a per- 
emptory order from England, he adds, "Ingenuous treatment and 
plain dealing I at least expected. It is to be hoped the project will 
answer ; it shall meet with my acquiescence in everything except 
personal services. I herewith inclose Governor Sharpe's letter, 
which I beg you will return to him with my acknowledgments for 
the favor he intended me. Assure him, sir, as you truly may, 0f 
my reluctance to quit the service, and the pleasure I should have 
received in attending his fortunes. Inform him, also, that it was to 
obey the call of honor and the advice of my friends that I declined 
it, and not to gratify any desire I had to leave the military line. 
My feelings are strongly bent to arms." 

Having resigned his commission, and disengaged himself from 
public affairs, Washington's first care was to visit his mother, in- 
quire into the state of domestic concerns, and attend to the welfare 
of his brothers and sisters. In these matters he was ever his 
mother's adjunct and counselor, discharging faithfully the duties of 
an eldest son, who should consider himself a second father to the 
family. 

He now took up his abode at Mount Vernon, and prepared to en- 
gage in those agricultural pursuits, for which, even in his youthful 
days, he had as keen a relish as for the profession of arms. Scarcely 
had he entered upon his rural occupations, however, when the ser- 
vice of his country once more called him to the field. 

The disastrous affair at the Great Meadows, and the other acts of 
French hostility on the Ohio, had roused the attention of the Brit- 
ish ministry. Their ambassador at Paris was instructed to com- 
plain of these violations of the peace. The court of Versailles amused 
him with general assurances of amity, and a strict adherence to 
treaties. Their ambassador at the court of St. James, the Marquis 
de Mirepoix, on the faith of his instructions, gave the same assur- 
ances. In the mean time, however, French ships were fitted out, 
and troops embarked, to carry out the schemes of the government 
in America. So profound was the dissimulation of the court of 
Versailles, that even their own ambassador is said to have been kept 
in ignorance of their real designs, and of the hostile game they were 
playing, while he was exerting himself in good faith, to lull the sus- 
picions of England, and maintain the international peace. When 
his eyes, however, were opened, he returned indignantly to France, 
and upraided the cabinet with the duplicity of which he had been 
made the unconscious instrument. 

The British government now prepared for military operations in ' 
America ; none of them professedly aggressive, but rather to resist 
and counteract aggressions. 

The Duke of Cumberland, captain-general of the British army, 
had the organization of this campaign ; and through his patronage, 
Major-General Edward Braddock was intrusted with the execution 
of it, being appointed generalissimo of all the forces in the 
colonies. 
^ Braddock was a veteran in service, and had been upward of 



1755-] EXCITEMENT OF WASHINGTON. 63 

forty years in the guards, that school of exact discipline and tech- 
nical punctilio. Cumberland, who held a commission in the guards, 
and was bigoted to its routine, may have considered Braddock 
fitted, by his skill and preciseness as a tactician, for a command 
in a new country, inexperienced in military science, to bring its 
raw levies into order, and to settle those questions of rank and eti- 
quette apt to arise where regular and provincial troops are to act 
together. 

The result proved the error of such an opinion. Braddock was 
a brave and experienced officer ; but his experience was that of 
routine, and rendered him pragmatical and obstinate, impatient of 
novel expedients " not kiicl down in the books," but dictated by 
emergencies in a "new country," and his military precision, which 
would have been brilHant on parade, was a constant obstacle to 
alert action in the wilderness. General Braddock landed on the 
20th of February at Hampton in Virginia, and proceeded to Wil- 
liamsburg to consult with Governor Dinwiddie. Shortly afterward 
he was joined there by Commodore Keppel, whose squadron of 
two ships-of-war, and several transports, had anchored in the 
Chesapeake. On board of these ships were two prime regiments 
of about five hundred men each ; one commanded by Sir Peter 
Halket, the other by Colonel Dunbar ; together with a train of 
artillery, and the necessary munitions of war. The regiments were 
to be augmented to seven hundred men, each by men selected by 
Sir John St. Clair from Virginia companies recently raised. 

Alexandria was fixed upon as the place where the troops should 
disembark and encamp. The ships were accordingly ordered up 
to that place, and the levies directed to repair thither. 

The din and stir of warlike preparation disturbed the quiet of 
Mount Vernon. Washington looked down from his rural retreat 
upon the ships of war and transports, as they passed up the 
Potomac, with the array of arms gleaming along their decks. The 
booming of cannon echoed among his groves. Alexandria was 
but a few miles distant. Occasionally he mounted his horse, and 
rode to that place ; it was like a garrisoned town, teeming with 
troops, and resounding with the drum and fife. A brilliant cam- 
paign was about to open under the auspices of an experienced 
general, and with all the means and appurtenances of European 
warfare. How different from the starveling expeditions he had 
hitherto been doomed to conduct! What an opportunity to efface 
the memory of his recent disaster! All his thoughts of rural life 
were put to flight. The military part of his character was again in 
the ascendant ; his great desire was to join the expedition as a vol- 
unteer. 

It was reported to General Braddock. The latter was apprised 
by Governor Dinwiddie and others, of Washington's personal 
merits, his knowledge of the country, and his experience in 
frontier service. The consequence was, a letter from Captain 
Robert Orme, one of Braddock's aides-de-camp, written by the 
general's order, inviting Washington to join his staff; the letter 
concluded with frank and cordial expressions of esteem on the 



64 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

part of Orme, which were warmly reciprocated, and laid the 
foundation of a soldierlike friendship between them. 

A volunteer situation on the staff of General Braddock offered 
no emolument nor command, and would be attended with con- 
siderable expense, beside a sacrifice of his private interests, having 
no person in whom he had confidence, to take charge of his affairs 
in his absence ; still he did not hesitate a moment to accept the 
invitation. In the position offered to him, all the questions of 
inihtary rank which had hitherto annoyed him, would be obviated. 
He could indulge his passion for arms without any sacrifice of 
dignity, and he looked forward with high anticipation to an 
opportunity of acquiring mihtary experience in a corps well orga- 
nized, and thoroughly disciplined, and in the family of a com- 
mander of acknowledged skill as a tactician. 

His mother heard with concern of another projected expedition 
in the wilderness. HuriTing to Mount Vernon, she entreated him 
not again to expose himself to the hardships and perils of these 
frontier campaigns. She doubtless felt the value of his presence 
at home, to manage and protect the complicated interests of the 
domestic connection, and watched with solicitude over his adven- 
turous campaigning, where so much family welfare was at hazard. 
However much a mother's pride may have been gratified by his 
early advancement and renown, she had rejoiced on his return to 
the safer walks of peaceful life. She was thoroughly practical and 
prosaic in her notions ; and not to be dazzled by military glory. 
The passion for arms which mingled with the more sober elements 
of Washington's character, would seem to have been inherited 
from his father's side of the house ; it was, in fact, the old chival- 
rous spirit of the De Wessyngtons. 

His mother had once prevented him from entering the navy, 
when a gallant frigate was at hand, anchored in the waters of the 
Potomac ; with all his deference for her, which he retained through 
life, he could not resist the appeal to his martial sympathies, which 
called him to the head-quarters of General Braddock at Alexandria. 

His arrival was hailed by his young associates. Captains Orme 
and Morris, the general's aides-de-camp, who at once received him 
into frank companionship, and a cordial intimacy commenced 
between them, that continued throughout the campaign. 

He experienced a courteous reception from the general, who 
expressed in flattering terms the impression he had received of his 
merits. Washington soon appreciated the character of the gen- 
eral. He found him stately and somewhat haughty, exact in 
matters of military etiquette and disciphne, positive in giving an 
opinion, and obstinate in maintaining it; but of an honorable and 
generous, though somewhat irritable nature. 

Niagara and Crown Point were to be attacked about the same 
time with Fort Duquesne, the former by Governor Shirley, with 
his own and Sir William Pepperell's regiments, and some New 
York companies; the latter by Colonel William Johnson, sole 
manager and director of Indian affairs; a personage worthy of 
especial note. 



I755-] CAAfP A T FOR T CUMBERLAND. 6$ 

He was a native of Ireland, and had come out to this country in 
1734, to manage the landed estates owned by his uncle, Com- 
modore Sir Peter Warren, in the Mohawk country. 

He had resided ever since in the vicinity of the Mohawk River, 
in the province of New York. By his agency, and his dealings 
with the native tribes, he had acquired great wealth, and become a 
kind of potentate in the Indian country. His influence over the 
Six Nations was said to be unbounded ; and it was principally with 
the aid of a large force of their warriors that it was expected he 
would accomplish his part of the campaign. The end of June, 
"nearly in July," was fixed upon as the time when the several 
attacks upon Forts Duquesne, Niagara, and Crown Point, should 
be carried into execution, and Braddock anticipated an easy 
accomplishment of his plans. 

The expulsion of the French from the lands wrongfully held by 
them in Nova Scotia, was to be assigned to Colonel Lawrence, 
Lieutenant-Governor of that province; we will briefly add, in 
anticipation, that it was effected by him, with the aid of troops from 
Massachusetts and elsewhere, led by Lieutenant-Colonel Monck- 
ton. 

Washington had looked with wonder and dismay at the huge 
paraphernaha of war, and the world of superfluities to be trans- 
ported across the mountains, recollecting the difficulties he ha* 
experienced in getting over them with his nine swivels and scanty 
supplies. " If our march is to be regulated by the slow movements 
of the train," said he, "it will be tedious, very tedious, indeed." 
His predictions excited a sarcastic smile in Braddock, as betraying 
the limited notions of a young provincial officer, little acquainted 
with the march of armies. 

General Braddock set out from Alexandria on the 20th of April. 
Washington remained behind a few days to arrange his affairs, and 
then rejoined him at Fredericktown, in Maryland, where, on the 
loth of May, he was proclaimed one of the general's aides-de-canip. 
The troubles of Braddock had already commenced. The Virgin- 
ian contractors failed to fulfill their engagements; of all the immense 
means of transportation so confidently promised, but fifteen wagons 
and a hundred draft-horses had arrived, and there was no prospect 
of more. There was equal disappointment in provisions, both as to 
quantity and quality ; and he had to send round the country to buy 
cattle for the subsistence of the troops. 

Fortunately, while the general was venting his spleen in anathe- 
mas against army contractors, Benjamin Franklin arrived at Fred- 
ericktown. That eminent man, then about forty-nine years of age, 
had been for many years member of the Pennsylvania Assembly, 
and was now postmaster-general for America. The Assembly 
understood that Braddock was incensed against them, supposing 
them adverse to the ser\ace of the war. They had procured Frank- 
lin to wait upon him, not as if sent by them, but as if he came in 
his capacity of postmaster-general, to arrange for the sure and 
speedy transmission of dispatches between the commander-in-chief 
and the governors of the provinces. 
3 



66 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

He was well received, and became a daily guest at the general's 
table. In his autobiography, he gives us an instance of the blind 
confidence and fatal prejudices by which Braddock was deluded 
throughout this expedition. " Jn conversation with him one day," 
writes Franklin, "he was giving me some account of his intended 
progress. 'After taking Fort Duquesne,' said he, ' I am to proceed 
to Niagara; and, having taken that, to Frontenac, if the season will 
allow time; and I suppose it will, for Duquesne can hardly detain 
me above three or four days : and then I can see nothing that can 
obstruct my march to Niagara.' 

"Having before revolved in my mind," continues Franklin, "the 
long line his army must make in their march by a very narrow 
road, to be cut for them through the woods and bushes, and also 
what I had heard of a former defeat of fifteen hundred French, 
who invaded the Illinois country, I had conceived somedoubtsand 
some fears for the event of the campaign ; but I ventured only to 
say, 'To be sure, sir, if you arrive well before Duquesne Avith these 
fine troops, so well provided with artillery, the fort, though com- 
pletely fortified, and assisted with a very strong garrison, can prob- 
ably make but a short resistance. The only danger I apprehend 
of obstruction to your march, is from the ambuscades of the Indians, 
who, by constant practice, are dexterous in laying and executing 
Aem; and the slender line, nearly four miles long, which your 
afmy must make, may expose it to be attacked by surprise on its 
flanks, and to be cut like thread into several pieces, which, from 
their distance, cannot come up in time to support one another.' 

" He smiled at my ignorance, and replied : 'These savages may 
indeed be a formidable enemy to raw American mihtia, but upon 
the king's regular and disciplined troops, sir, it is impossible they 
should make an impression.' I was conscious of an impropriety in 
my disputing with a military man in matters of his profession, and 
said no more." 

As the whole delay of the army was caused by the want of con- 
veyances, Frankhn observed one day to the general that it was a 
pity the troops had not been landed in Pennsylvania, where almost 
every farmer had his wagon. "Then, sir," replied Braddock, 
" you who are a man of interest there can probably procure them 
for me, and I beg you will." Franklin consented. An instrument 
in writing was drawn up, empowering him to contract for one hun- 
dred and fifty wagons, with four horses to each wagon, and fifteen 
hundred saddle or packhorses for the service of his majesty's forces, 
to be at Wills' Creek on or before the 20th of May, and he promptly 
departed for Lancaster to execute the commission. 

After his departure, Braddock, attended by his staff, and his 
guard of light horse, set off for Wills' Creek by the way of Win- 
chester, the road along the north side of the Potomac not being yet 
made. "This gave him," writes Washington, "a good oppor- 
tunity to see the absurdity of the route, and of damning it very 
heartily." 

Three of Washington's horses were knocked up before they 
reached Winchester, and he had to purchase others. This was a 



I755-] CAMP A T FOR T CUMBERLAND. 6/ 

severe drain of his campaigning purse ; fortunately he was in the 
neighborhood of Greenway Court, and was enabled to replenish it 
by a loan from his old friend Lord P^airfax. 

The discomforts of the rough road were increased with the gen- 
eral, by his traveling with some degree of state in a chariot which 
he had purchased of Governor Sharpe. In this he dashed by Dun- 
bar's division of the troops, which he overtook near Wills' Creek; 
his body guard of light horse galloping on each side of his chariot, 
and his staff accompanying him; the drums beating the Grenadier's 
march as he passed. In this style, too, he arrived at Fort Cumber- 
land, amid a thundering salute of seventeen guns. 

By this time the general discovered that he was not in a region 
fitted for such display, and his traveling chariot was abandoned at 
Fort Cumberland; otherwise it would soon have become a wreck 
among the mountains beyond. 

By the 19th of May, the forces were assembled at Fort Cumber- 
land. The two royal regiments, originally one thousand strong, 
now increased to fourteen hundred, by men chosen from the Mary- 
land and Virginia levies. Two provincial companies of carpenters, 
or pioneers, thirty men each, with subalterns and captains. A 
company of guides, composed of a captain, two aids, and ten men. 
The troop of Virginia light horse, commanded by Captain Stewart; 
the detachment of thirty sailors with their officers, and the remnants 
of two independent companies from New York, one of which was 
commanded by Captain Horatio Gates, of whom we shall have to 
speak much hereafter, in the course of this biography. 

At Fort Cumberland, Washington had an opportunity of seeing 
a force encamped according to the plan approved of by the council 
of war; and military tactics, enforced with all the precision of a 
martinet. The roll of each company was called over morning, 
noon, and night. There was strict examination of arms and 
accouterments; the commanding officer of each company being 
answerable for their being kept in good order. The general was 
very particular in regard to the appearance and drill of the Virginia 
recruits and companies, whom he had put under the rigorous dis- 
cipline of Ensign Allen. "They performed their evolutions and 
firings, as well as could be expected," writes Captain Orme, "but 
their languid, spiritless, and unsoldier-like appearance, considered 
with the lowness and ignorance of most of their officers, gave little 
hopes of their future good behavior." He doubtless echoed the 
opinion of the general; how completely were both to be unde- 
ceived as to their estimate of these troops! 

The general held a levee in his tent every morning, from ten to 
eleven. He was strict as to the morals of the camp. Drunken- 
ness was severely punished. A soldier convicted of theft was sen- 
tenced to receive one thousand lashes, and to be drummed out of 
his regiment. Part of the first part of the sentence was remitted. 
Divine service was performed every Sunday, at the head of the 
colors of each regiment, by the chaplain. There was the funeral 
of a captain who died at this encampment. A captain's guard 
marched before the corpse, the captain of it in the rear, the firelocks 



68 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

reversed, the drums beating the dead march. When near the grave 
the guard formed two lines, facing each other ; rested on their arms, 
muzzles downward, and leaned their faces on the butts. The 
corpse was carried between them, the sword and sash on the coffin, 
and the officers following two and two. After the chaplain of the 
regiment had read the service, the guard fired three volleys over 
the grave, and returned. 

Braddock's camp, in a word, was a complete study for Wash- 
ington, during the halt at Fort Cumberland, where he had an 
opportunity of seeing military routine in its strictest forms. He 
had a specimen, too, of convivial life in the camp, which the gen- 
eral endeavored to maintain, even in the wilderness, keeping a 
hospitable table ; for he is said to have been somewhat of a bon 
vivant, and to have had with him "two good cooks, who could 
make an excellent ragout out of a pair of boots, had they but 
materials to toss them up with." 

There was great detention at the fort, causedbythe want of forage 
and supplies, the road not having been finished from Philadelphia. 
Mr. Richard Peters, the secretary of Governor Morris, was in 
camp, to attend to the matter. He had to bear the brunt of Brad- 
dock's complaints. The general declared he -would not stir from 
Wills* Creek until he had the governor's assurance that the road 
would be opened in time. Mr. Peters requested guards to protect 
the men while at work, from attacks by the Indians. Braddock 
swore he would not furnish guards for the woodcutters, — "let 
Pennsylvania do it!" He scoffed at the talk about danger from 
Indians. Peters endeavored to make him sensible of the peril 
which threatened him in this respect. Should an army of them, 
led by French officers, beset him in his march, he would not be 
able, with all his strength and military skill, to reach Fort Duquesne 
without a body of rangers, as well on foot as horseback. The 
general, however, "despised his observations." Still, guards had 
ultimately to be provided, or the work on the road would have 
been abandoned. 

Braddock, in fact, was completely chagrined and disappointed 
about the Indians. The Cherokees and Catawbas, whom Dinwid- 
dle had given him reason to expect in such numbers, never 
arrived. George Croghan reached the camp with but about fifty 
warriors, whom he had brought from Aughquick. At the general's 
request he sent a messenger to invite the Delawares and Shawnees 
from the Ohio, who returned with two chiefs of the former tribe. 
Among the sachems thus assembled were some of Washington's 
former allies ; Scarooyadi, alias Monacatoocha, successor to the 
half-king ; White Thunder, the keeper of the speech-belts, and 
Silver Heels, so called, probably, from being swift of foot. 

Notwithstanding his secret contempt for the Indians, Braddock, 
agreeably to his instructions, treated them with great ceremony. 
A grand council was held in his tent, where all his officers attended. 
The chiefs, and all the warriors, came painted and decorated for war. 
They were received with mihtary honors, the guards resting on 
their fire-arms. The general made them a speech through 



1755-] INDIAN BEAUTIES. 69 

his interpreter, expressing the grief of their father, the great king of 
England, at the death of the half-king, and made them presents to 
console them. They in return promised their aid as guides and 
scouts, and declared eternal enmity to the French, following the 
declaration with the war song, " making a terrible noise." 

The general, to regale and astonish them, ordered all the 
artillery to be fired, " the drums and fifes playing and beating the 
point of war;" the fete ended by their feasting, in their own camp, 
on a bullock which the general had given them, following up their 
repast by dancing the war dance round a fire, to the sound of their 
uncouth drums and rattles, "making night hideous," by howls and 
yeUings. 

"I have engaged between forty and fifty Indians from the fron- 
tiers of your province to go over the mountains with me," writes 
Braddock to Governor Morris, "and shall take Croghan and Mon- 
tour into service." Croghan was, in effect, put in command of 
the Indians, and a warrant given to him of captain. 

For a time all went well. The Indians had their separate camp, 
where they passed half the night singing, dancing, and howling. 
The British were amused by their strange ceremonies, their sav- 
age antics, and savage decorations. The Indians, on the other 
hand, loitered by day about the English camp, fiercely painted and 
arrayed, gazing with silent admiration at the parade of the troops, 
their marchings and evolutions ; and delighted with the horse- 
races, with which the young officers recreated themselves. 

Unluckily the warriors had brought their families with them to 
"Wills' Creek, and the women were even fonder than the men of 
loitering about the British camp. They were not destitute of 
attractions ; for the young squaws resemble the gypsies, having 
seductive forms, small hands and feet, and soft voices. Among 
those who visited the camp was one who no doubt passed for an 
Indian princess. She was the daughter of the sachem. White 
Thunder, and bore the dazzling name of Bright Lightning. The 
charms of these wild-wood beauties were soon acknowledged. 
"The squaws," writes Secretary Peters, "bring in money plenty; 
the officers are scandalously fond of them." 

The jealously of the warriors was aroused ; some of them 
became furious. To prevent discord, the squaws were forbidden 
to come into the British camp. This did not prevent their being 
sought elsewhere. It was ultimately found necessary, for the sake 
of quiet, to send Bright Lightning, with all the other women and 
children, back to Aughquick. White Thunder, and several of the 
warriors, accompanied them for their protection. 

As to the three Delaware chiefs, they returned to the Ohio, 
promising the general they would collect their warriors together, 
and meet him on his march. They never kept their word. "These 
people are villains, and always side with the strongest," says a 
shrewd journalist of the expedition. 

During the halt of the troops at Wills' Creek, Washington had 
been sent to WiUiamsburg to bring on four thousand pounds for 
the mihtary chest. He returned, after a fortnight's absence, 



70 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

escorted from Winchester by eight men, "which eight men," 
writes he, "were two days assembling, but I beHeve would not 
have been more than as many seconds dispersing if I had been 
attacked." 

At length the general was relieved from present perplexities 
by the arrival of the horses and wagons which Franklin had under- 
taken to procure. That eminent man, with his characteristic 
promptness and unwearied exertions, and by his great personal 
popularity, had obtained them from the reluctant Pennsylvania 
farmers, being obliged to pledge his own responsibility for their 
being fully remunerated. He performed this laborious task out of 
pure zeal for the public service, neither expecting nor receiving 
emolument ; and, in fact, experiencing subsequently great delay 
and embarrassment before he was relieved from the pecuniary 
responsibilities thus patriotically incurred. 

The arrival of the conveyances put Braddock in good humor 
with Pennsylvania. In a letter to Governor Morris, he alludes to 
the threat of Sir John St. Clair, to go through that province with 
a drawn sword in his hand. "He is ashamed of his having talked 
to you in the manner he did." Still the general made Frankhn's 
contract for wagons the sole instance in which he had not exper- 
ienced deceit and villainy. 

" I hope, however, in spite of all this," adds he, "that we shall 
pass a merry Christmas together." 

On the loth of June, Braddock set off from Fort Cumberland 
with his aides-de-camp, and others of his staff, and his body guard 
of light horse. Sir Peter Halket, with his brigade, had marched 
three days previously ; and a detachment of six hundred men, 
under the command of Colonel Chapman, and the supervision of 
Sir John St. Clair, had been employed upward of ten days in cut- 
ting down trees, removing rocks, and opening a road. 

The march over the mountains proved, as Washington had fore- 
told a "tremendous undertaking." It was with difficulty the 
heavily laden wagons could be dragged up the steep and rugged 
roads, newly made, or imperfectly repaired. Often they extended 
for three or four miles in a straggling and broken line, with the sol- 
diers so dispersed, in guarding them, that an attack on any side 
•would have thrown the whole in confusion. It was the dreary 
region of the great Savage Mountain, and the " Shades of Death " 
that was again made to echo with the din of arms. 

What outraged Washington's notion of the abstemious frugality 
suitable to campaigning in "backwoods," was the great number 
of horses and wagons required by the officers for the trans- 
portation of their baggage, camp equipage, and a thousand articles 
of artificial necessity. Simple himself in his tastes and habits, and 
manfully indifferent to personal indulgences, he almost doubted 
whether such sybarites in the camp could be efficient in the field. 

By the time the advanced corps had struggled over two moun- 
tains, and through the intervening forest, and reached (i6th June) 
the Little Meadows, where Sir John St. Clair had made a tem- 
porary camp, General Braddock had become aware of the differ- 



1 755-] CAPTAIN JACK AND HIS BAND. 71 

ence between campaigning in a new country, or on the old well- 
beaten battle-grounds of Europe. He now, of his own accord, 
turned to Washington for advice, though it must have been a sore 
trial to his pride to seek it of so young a man ; but he had by this 
time sufficient proof of his sagacity, and his knowledge of the 
frontier. 

Thus unexpectedly called on, Washington gave his counsel with 
becoming modesty, but with his accustomed clearness. There was 
just now an opportunity to strike an effective blow at Fort 
Duquesne, but it might be lost by delay. The garrison, according 
to credible reports, was weak ; large reinforcements and supphes, 
which were on their way, would be detained by the drought, 
which rendered the river by which they must come low and unna- 
vigable. The blow must be struck before they could arrive. He 
advised the general, therefore, to divide his forces ; leave one 
part to come on with the stores and baggage, and all the cumbrous 
appurtenances of an army, and to throw himself in the advance 
with the other part, composed of his choicest troops, lightened of 
every thing superfluous that might impede a rapid march. 

His advice was adopted. Twelve hundred men, selected out of 
all the companies, and furnished with ten field-pieces, were to form 
the first division, their provisions, and other necessaries, to be 
carried on pack-horses. The second division, with all the stores, 
munitions, and heavy baggage, was to be brought on by Colonel 
Dunbar. 

The least practicable part of the arrangement was with regard 
to the officers of the advance. Washington had urged a retrench- 
ment of their baggage and camp equipage, that as many of their 
horses as possible might be used as pack-horses. Here was the 
difficulty. Brought up, many of them, in fashionable and luxur- 
ious life, or the loitering indulgence of country quarters, they were 
so encumbered with what they considered indispensable neces- 
saries, that out of two hundred and twelve horses generally appro- 
priated to their use, not more than a dozen could be spared by 
them for the public service. Washington, in his own case, acted 
up to the advice he had given. He retained no more clothing and 
effects with him than would about half fill a portmanteau, and 
gave up his best steed ^ as a pack-horse — which he never heard 
of afterward. 

On the 19th of June Braddock's first division set out, with less 
than thirty carriages, including those that transported ammunition 
for the artillery, all strongly horsed. The Indians marched with 
the advanced party. In the course of the day, Scarooyadi and 
his son being at a small distance from the line of march, was sur- 
rounded and taken by some French and Indians. His son escaped, 
and brought intelligence to his warriors ; they hastened to rescue 
or revenge him, but found him tied to a tree. The French had 
been disposed to shoot him, but their savage allies declared they 
would abandon them should they do so ; having some tie of 
friendship or kindred with the chieftain, who thus rejoined the troops 
unharmed. 



72 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Washington was disappointed in his anticipations of a rapid 
march. The general, though he had adopted his advice in tlie 
main, could not carry it out in detail. His military education was 
in the way ; bigoted to the regular and elaborate tactics of Europe, 
he could not stoop to the make-shift expedients of a new country, 
where every difficulty is encountered and mastered in a rough-and- 
ready style. " I found," said Washington, " that instead of push- 
ing on with vigor, without regarding a little rough road, they were 
halted to level every mole hill, and to erect bridges over every 
brook, by which means we were four days in getting twelve miles." 

For several days Washington had suffered from fever, accom- 
panied by intense headache, and his illness increased in violence 
to such a degree that he was unable to ride, and had to be con- 
veyed for a part of the time in a covered wagon. His illness con- 
tinued without intermission until the 23d, " when I was reheved," 
says he, "by the general's absolutely ordering the physician to give 
me Dr. James's powders; one of the most excellent medicines in 
the world. It gave me immediate relief, and removed my fever 
and other complaints in four days' time." 

He was still unable to bear the jolting of the wagon, but it needed 
another interposition of the kindly-intended authority of General 
Braddock, to bring him to a halt at the great crossings of the You- 
ghiogeny. There the general assigned him a guard, provided him 
with necessaries, and requested him to remain, under care of his 
physician. Dr. Craik, until the arrival of Colonel Dunbar's detach- 
ment, which was two days' march in the rear; giving him his word 
of honor that he should, at all events, be enabled to rejoin the main 
division before it reached the French fort. 

This kind solicitude on the part of Braddock shows the real esti- 
mation in which he was held by that officer. Doctor Craik backed 
the general's orders, by declaring that should Washington persevere 
in his attempts to go on in the condition he then was, his life would 
be in danger. Orme also joined his entreaties, and promised, if he 
would remain, he would keep him informed by letter of every oc- 
currence of moment. 

Notwithstanding all the kind assurances of Braddock and his 
aide-de-camp Orme, it was with gloomy feelings that Washington 
saw the troops depart ; fearful he might not be able to rejoin them 
in time for the attack upon the fort, which, he assured his brother 
aide-de-camp, he would not miss for five hundred pounds. 

Leaving Washington at the Youghiogeny, we will follow the 
march of Braddock. In the course of the first day (June 24th), he 
came to a deserted Indian camp; judging from the number of 
wigwams, there must have been about one hundred and seventy 
warriors. Some of the trees about it had been stripped, and 
painted with threats, and bravadoes, and scurrilous taunts written 
on them in the French language, showing that there were white 
men with the savages. 

The day's march passed by the Great Meadows and Fort Neces- 
sity, the scene of Washington's capitulation. Several Indians were 
seen hovering in the woods, and the light horse and Indian allies 



I755-] DESERTED INDIAN CAMP. 73 

were sent out to surround them, but did not succeed. In crossing 
a mountain beyond the Great Meadows, the carriages had to be 
lowered with the assistance of the sailors, by means of tackle. The 
camp for the night was about two miles beyond Fort Necessity. 
Several French and Indians endeavored to reconnoiter it, but were 
fired upon by the advanced sentinels. 

The following day (26th) there was a laborious march of but four 
miles, owing to the difficulties of the road. The evening halt was 
at another deserted Indian camp, strongly posted on a high rock, 
■with a steep and narrow ascent; it had a spring in the middle, and 
stood at the termination of the Indian path to the Monongahela. 
By this pass the party had come which attacked Washington the 
year before, in the Great Meadows. The Indians and French too, 
who were hovering about the army, had just left this camp. The 
fires they had left were yet burning. The French had inscribed 
their names on some of the trees with insulting bravadoes, and the 
Indians had designated in triumph the scalps they had taken two 
days previously. A party was sent out with guides, to follow their 
tracks and fall on them in the night, but again without success. 
In fact, it was the Indian boast, that throughout this march of 
Braddock, they saw him every day from the mountains, and ex- 
pected to be able to shoot down his soldiers " like pigeons." 

The march continued to be toilful and difficult ; on one day it 
did not exceed two miles, having to cut a passage over a mountain. 
In cleaning their guns the men were ordered to draw the charge, 
instead of firing it off. No fire was to be lighted in front of the 
pickets. At night the men were to take their arms into the tents 
with them. 

Further on the precautions became still greater. On the advanced 
pickets the men were in two divisions, relieving each other every 
two hours. Half remained on guard with fixed bayonets, the other 
half lay down by their arms. The picket sentinels were doubled. 

On the 4th of July they encamped at Thickety Run. The coun- 
try was less mountainous and rocky, and the woods, consisting 
chiefly of white pine, were more open. The general now supposed 
himself to be within thirty miles of Fort Duquesne. Ever since 
his halt at the deserted camp on the rock beyond the Great 
Meadows, he had endeavored to prevail upon the Croghan Indians 
to scout in the direction of the fort, and bring him intelligence, but 
never could succeed. They had probably been deterred by the 
number of French and Indian tracks, and by the recent capture 
of Scarooyadi. This day, however, two consented to reconnoiter ; 
and shortly after their departure, Christopher Gist, the resolute 
pioneer, who acted as guide to the general, likewise set off as a 
scout. 

The Indians returned on the 6th. They had been close to Fort 
Duquesne. There were no additional works there; they saw a 
few boats under the fort, and one with a white flag coming down 
the Ohio ; but there were few men to be seen, and few tracks of 
any. They came upon an unfortunate officer, shooting within half 
a mile of the fort, and brought a scalp as a trophy of his fate. 



74 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

None of the passes between the camp and fort were occupied ; they 
believed there were few men abroad reconnoitering. 

Gist returned soon after them. His account corroborated theirs ; 
but he had seen a smoke in a valley between the camp and the 
fort, made probably by some scouting party. He had intended to 
prowl about the fort at night, but had been discovered and pursued 
by two Indians, and narrowly escaped with his Hfe. 

On the same day, during the march, three or four men loitering 
in the rear of the grenadiers were killed and scalped. Several of 
the grenadiers set off to take revenge. They came upon a party 
of Indians, who held up boughs and grounded their arms, the con- 
certed sign of amity. Not perceiving or understanding it, the gren- 
adiers fired upon them, and one fell. It proved to be the son of 
Scarooyadi. Aware too late of their error, the grenadiers brought 
the body to the camp. The conduct of Braddock was admirable 
on the occasion. He sent for the father and the other Indians, and 
condoled with them on the lamentable occurrence ; making them 
the customary presents of expiation. But what was more to the 
point, he caused the youth to be buried with the honors of war ; at 
his request the officers attended the funeral, and a volley was fired 
over the grave. 

These soldierlike tributes of respect to the deceased, and sym- 
pathy with the survivors, soothed the feelings and gratified the 
pride of the father, and attached him more firmly to the service. 
We are glad to record an anecdote so contrary to the general con- 
tempt for the Indians with which Braddock stands charged. It 
speaks well for the real kindness of his heart. 

We will return now to Washington in his sick encampment on 
the banks of the Youghiogeny, where he was left repining at the 
departure of the troops without him. To add to his annoyances, 
his servant, John Alton, a faithful Welshman, was taken ill with 
the same malady, and unable to render him any services. 
Letters from his fellow aides-de-camp showed him the kind 
solicitude that was felt concerning him. At the general's desire, 
Captain Morris wrote to him, informing him of their intended 
halts. 

"It is the desire of every individual in the family," adds he, 
"and the general's positive commands to you, not to stir, but by 
the advice of the person [Dr. Craik] under whose care you are, till 
you are better, which we all hope will be very soon." 

He now considered himself sufficiently recovered to rejoin the 
troops, and his only anxiety was that he should not be able to do 
it in time for the great blow. He was rejoiced, therefore, on the 
3d of July, by the arrival of an advanced party of one hundred 
men convoying provisions. Being still too weak to mount his horse, 
he set off with the escort in a covered wagon ; and after a most 
fatiguing journey, over mountain and through forest, reached Brad- 
dock's camp on the 8th of July. It was on the east side of the 
Monongahela, about two miles from the river, in the neighborhood 
of the town of Queen Aliquippa, and about fifteen miles from Fort 
Duquesne. 



I755-] CROSSING THE FORDS. 75 

In consequence of adhering to technical rules and military forms. 
General Braddock had consumed a month in marching little more 
than a hundred miles. The tardiness of his progress was regarded 
with surprise and impatience even in Europe ; where his patron, the 
Duke of Brunswick, was watching the events of the campaign he 
had planned. "The Duke," writes Horace Walpole, "is much 
dissatisfied at the slowness of General Braddock, who does not 
march as if he was at all impatient to be scalped.'' The insinua- 
tion of the satirical wit was unmerited. Braddock was a stranger 
to fear ; but in his movements he was fettered by system. 

Washington was warmly received on his arrival, especially by his 
fellow aides-de-camp, Morris and Orme. He was just in time, for 
the attack upon Fort Duquesne was to be made on the following 
day. The neighboring country had been reconnoitered to deter- 
mine upon a plan of attack. The fort stood on the same side of 
the Monongahela with the camp; but there was a narrow pass 
between them of about two miles, with the river on the left and a very 
high mountain on the right, and in its present state quite impassable 
for carriages. The route determined on was to cross the Monon- 
gahela by a ford immediately opposite to the camp ; proceed along 
the west' bank of the river, for about five miles, then recross by 
another ford to the eastern side, and push on to the fort. The river 
at these fords was shallow, and the banks were not steep. 

According to the plan of arrangement, Lieutenant-Colonel Gage, 
with the advance, was to cross the river before daybreak, march 
to the second ford, and recrossing there, take post to secure the 
passage of the main force. The advance was to be composed of 
two companies of grenadiers, one hundred and sixty infantry, 
the independent company of Captain Horatio Gates, and two six- 
pounders. 

Washington, who had already seen enough of regular troops to 
doubt their infallibiUty in wild bush-fighting, and who knew the 
dangerous nature of the ground they were to traverse, ventured to 
suggest, that on the following day the Virginia rangers, being 
accustomed to the country and to Indian warfare, might be thrown 
in the advance. The proposition drew an angry reply from the 
general, indignant, very probably, that a young provincial officer 
should presume to school a veteran like himself. 

Early next morning (July 9th), before daylight. Colonel Gage 
crossed with the advance. He was followed, at some distance, by 
Sir John St. Clair, quartermaster-general, with a working party of 
two hundred and fifty men, to make roads for the artillery and bag- 
gage. They had with them their wagons of tools, and two six- 
pounders. A party of about thirty savages rushed out of the woods 
as Colonel Gage advanced, but were put to flight before they had 
done any harm. 

By sunrise the main body turned out in full uniform. At the 
beating of the general, their arms, which had been cleaned the 
night before, were charged with fresh cartridges. The officers 
were perfectly equipped. All looked as if arrayed for a fete, 
rather than a battle. Washington, who was still weak and unwell. 



76 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

mounted his horse, and joined the staff of the general, who was 
scrutinizing everything with the eye of a martinet. As it was sup- 
posed the enemy would be on the watch for the crossing of the 
troops, it had been agreed that they should do it in the greatest 
order, with bayonets fixed, colors flying, and drums and fifes beat- 
ing and playing. They accordingly made a gallant appearance as 
they forded the Monongahela, and wound along its banks, and 
through the open forests, gleaming and glittering in morning sun- 
shine, and stepping buoyantly to the Grenadier's March. 

Washington, with his keen and youthful relish for military affairs, 
was delighted with their perfect order and equipment, so different 
from the rough bush-fighters, to which he had been accustomed. 
Roused to new life, he forgot his recent ailments, and broke forth 
in expressions of enjoyment and admiration, as he rode in company 
with his fellow aides-de-camp, Orme and Morris. Often in after 
life, he used to speak of the effect upon him of the first sight of a 
well-disciplined European army, marching in high confidence and 
bright array, on the eve of a battle. 

About noon they reached the second ford. Gage, with the 
advance, was on the opposite side of the Monongahela, posted 
according to orders ; but the river bank had not been sufficiently 
sloped. The artillery and baggage drew up along the beach and 
halted until one, when the second crossing took place, drums beat- 
ing, fifes playing, and colors flying, as before. When all had 
passed, there was again a halt close by a small stream called Fra- 
zier's Run, until the general arranged the order of march. 

First went the advance, under Gage, preceded by the engineers 
and guides, and six light horsemen. 

Then, Sir John St. Clair and the working party, with their wagons 
and the two six-pounders. On each side were thrown out four 
flanking parties. 

Then, at some distance, the general was to follow with the main 
body, the artillery and baggage preceded and flanked by light horse 
and squads of infantry ; while the Virginian, and other provincial 
troops, were to form the rear guard. 

The ground before them was level until about half a mile from 
the river, where a rising ground, covered with long grass, low 
bushes, and scattered trees, sloped gently up to a range of hills. The 
whole countr) , generally speaking, was a forest, with no clear open- 
ing but the road, which was about twelve feet wide, and flanked by 
two ravines, concealed by trees and thickets. 

Had Braddock been schooled in the warfare of the woods, or 
had he adopted the suggestions of Washington, which he rejected 
so impatiently, he would have thrown out Indian scouts or Virginia 
rangers in the advance, and on the flanks, to beat up the woods and 
ravines ; but as has been sarcastically observed, he suffered his 
troops to march forward through the centre of the plain, with merely 
their usual guides and flanking parties, "as if in a review in St. 
James' Park." 

It was now near two o'clock. The advanced party and the 
working party had crossed the plain and were ascending the rising 



1755] BUSH-FIGHTING. tj 

ground. Braddock was about to follow with the main body and 
had given the word to march, when he heard an excessively quick 
and heavy firing in front. Washington, who was with the general, 
surmised that the evil he had apprehended had come to pass. For 
want of scouting parties ahead the advance parties were suddenly 
and warmly attacked. Braddock ordered Lieutenant-Colonel Burton 
to hasten to their assistance with the vanguard of the main body, 
eight hundred strong. The residue, four hundred, were halted, 
and posted to protect the artillery and baggage. 

The firing continued, with feaiful yelling. There was a terrible 
uproar. By the general's orders an aide-de-camp spurred forward 
to bring him an account of the nature of the attack. Without 
waiting for his return the general himself, finding the turmoil 
increase, moved forward, leaving Sir Peter Halket with the com- 
mand of the baggage. 

The van of the advance had indeed been taken by surprise. It 
was composed of two companies of carpenters and pioneers to cut 
the road, and two flank companies of grenadiers to protect them. 
Suddenly the engineer who preceded them to mark out the road 
gave the alarm, "French and Indians!" A body of them was 
approaching rapidly, cheered on by a Frenchman in gayly fringed 
hunting-shirt, whose gorget showed him to be an officer. There 
was sharp firing on both sides at first. Several of the enemy fell ; 
among them their leader; but a mui-derous fire broke out from 
among the trees and a ravine on the right, and the woods resounded 
with unearthly whoops and yelHngs. The Indian rifle was at work, 
leveled by unseen hands. Most of the grenadiers and many of the 
pioneers were shot down. The survivors were driven in on the ad- 
vance. 

Gage ordered his men to fix bayonets and form in order of battle. 
They did so in hurry and trepidation. He would have scaled a 
hill on the right whence there was the severest firing. Not a platoon 
would quit the line of march. They were more dismayed by the 
yells than by the rifles of the unseen savages. The latter extended 
themselves along the hill and in the ravines ; but their whereabouts 
was only known by their demoniac cries and the puffs of smoke 
from their rifles. The soldiers fired wherever they saw the smoke. 
Their officers tried in vain to restrain them until they should see 
their foe. All orders were unheeded ; in their fright they shot at 
random, kiUing some of their own flanking parties, and of the van- 
guard, as they came running in. The covert fire grew more intense. 
In a short time most of the officers and many of the men of the ad- 
vance were killed or wounded. Colonel Gage himself received a 
wound. The advance fell back in dismay upon Sir John St Clair's 
corps, which was equally dismayed. The cannon belonging to it 
were deserted. 

Colonel Burton had come up with the reinforcements, and was 
forming his men to face the rising ground on the right, when both 
of the advanced detachments fell back upon him, and all now was 
confusion. 

By this time the general was upon the ground. He tried to rally 



rS LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

;he men. " They would fight," they said, "if they could see their 
memy ; but it Avas useless to fire at trees and buslies, and they 
:ould not stand to be shot down by an invisible foe." 

The colors were advanced in different places to separate the men 
Df the two regiments. The general ordered the officers to form the 
nen, tell them off into small divisions, and advance with them ; 
Dut the soldiers could not be prevailed upon cither by threats or 
Mitreaties. The Virginia troops, accustomed to the Indian mode of 
ighting, scattered themselves, and took post behind trees, whence 
;hey could pick off the lurking foe. In this way they, in some de- 
cree, protected the regulars. Washington advised General Brad- 
dock to adopt the same plan with the regulars ; but he persisted in 
forming them into platoons ; consequently they were cut down from 
behind logs and trees as fast as they could advance. Several at- 
:empted to take to the trees, without orders, but the general stormed 
at them, called them cowards, and even struck them with the flat 
3f his sword. Several of the Virginians, who had taken post and 
kvere doing good service in this manner, were slain by the fire of 
the regulars, directed wherever a smoke appeared among the 
rees. 

The officers behaved with consummate bravery ; and Washington 
beheld with admiration those who, in camp or on the march, had 
appeared to him to have an almost effeminate regard for personal 
ease and convenience, now exposing themselves to imminent death, 
with a courage that kindled with the thickening horrors. In the 
v^ain hope of inspiriting the men to drive off the enemy from the 
Hanks and regain the cannon, they would dash forward singly or 
n groups. They were invariably shot down ; for the Indians 
aimed from their coverts at every one on horseback, or who appeared 
:o have command. Some were killed by random shot of their own 
men, who, crowded in masses, fired with affrighted rapidity, but 
without aim. Soldiers in the front ranks were killed by those in 
the rear. Between friend and foe, the slaughter of the officers was 
terrible. All this while the Avoods resounded with the unearthly 
^'ellings of the savages, and now and then one of them, hideously 
painted, and ruffling with feathered crest, would rush forth to scalp 
an officer who had fallen, or seize a horse galloping wildly without 
1 rider. 

Throughout this disastrous day, Washington distinguished him- 
self by his courage and presence of mind. His brother aids, Orme 
and Monis, were wounded and disabled early in the action, and 
:he whole duty of carrying the orders of the general devolved on 
tiim. His danger was imminent and incessant. He was in every 
part of the field, a conspicuous mark for the murderous rifle. Two 
:iorses were shot under him. Four bullets passed through his coat. 
His escape without a wound was almost miraculous. Dr. Craik, 
A'ho was on the field attending to the wounded, watched him with 
anxiety as he rode about in the most exposed manner, and used to 
;ay that he expected every moment to see him fall. At one time he 
.vas sent to the main body to bring the artillery into action. All 
;here was likewise in confusion; for the Indians had extended 



I755-] THE RETREAT. 79 

themselves along the ravine so as to flank the reserve and carry 
slaughter into the ranks. Sir Peter Halket had been shot down at 
the head of his regiment. The men who should have served the 
guns were paralyzed. Had they raked the ravines with grapeshot 
the day might have been saved. In his ardor Washington sprang 
from his horse ; wheeled and pointed a brass field-piece with his 
own hand, and directed an effective discharge into the woods ; but 
neither his effort nor example were of avail. The men could not be 
kept to the guns. 

Braddock still remained in the center of the field, in the desper- 
ate hope of retrieving the fortunes of the day. The Virginia rangers, 
who had been most efficient in covering his position, were nearly 
all killed or wounded. His secretary, Shirley, had fallen by his 
side. Many of his officers had been slain within his sight, and 
many of his guard of Virginia light horse. Five horses had been 
killed under him ; still he kept his ground, vainly endeavoring to 
check the flight of his men, or at least to effect their retreat in good 
order. At length a bullet passed through his right arm, and lodged 
itself in his lungs. He fell from his horse, but was caught by Cap- 
tain Stewart of the Virginia guards, who, with the assistance of 
another American, and a servant, placed him in a tumbril. It was 
with much difficulty they got him out of the field — in his despair he 
desired to be left there. 

The rout now became complete. Baggage, stores, artillery, 
everything was abandoned. The wagoners took each a horse out 
of his team, and fled. The officers were swept off with the men in 
this headlong flight. It was rendered more precipitate by the 
shouts and yells of the savages, numbers of whom rushed forth from 
their coverts, and pursued the fugitives to the river side, killing 
several as they dashed across in tumultuous confusion. Fortunately 
for the latter, the victors gave up the pursuit in their eagerness to 
collect the spoil. 

The shattered army continued its flight after it had crossed the 
Monongahela, a wretched wreck of the brilliant little force that had 
recently gleamed along its banks, confident of victory. Out of 
eighty-six officers, twenty-six had been killed, and thirty-six 
wounded. The number of rank and file killed and wounded was 
upward of seven hundred. The Virginia corps had suffered the 
most ; one company had been almost annihilated, another, besides 
those killed and wounded in the ranks, had lost all its officers even 
to the corporal. 

About a hundred men were brought to a halt about a quarter of 
a mile from the ford of the river. Here was Braddock, with his 
wounded aides-de-camp and some of his officers ; Dr. Craik dress- 
ing h'lS wounds, and Washington attending him with faithful 
assiduity. Braddock was still able to give orders, and had a faint 
hope ot being able to keep possession of the ground until reinforced. 
Most of the men were stationed in a very advantageous spot about 
two hundred yards from the road; and Lieutenant-Colonel Burton 
posted out small parties and sentinels. Before an hour had 
elapsed most of the men had stolen oft'. Being thus deserted, 



8o LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Braddock and his officers continued their retreat ; he would have 
mounted his horse but was unable, and had to be carried by- 
soldiers. Orme and Morris Avere placed on litters borne by horses. 
They were subsequently joined by Colonel Gage with eighty men 
whom he had rallied. 

Washington, in the mean time, notwithstanding his weak state, 
being found most efficient in frontier service, was sent to Colonel 
Dunbar's camp, forty miles distant, with orders for him to hurry 
forward provisions, hospital stores, and wagons for the wounded, 
under the escort of two grenadier companies. It was a hard and a 
melancholy ride throughout the night and the following day. The 
tidings of the defeat preceded him, borne by the wagoners, who 
had mounted their horses, on Braddock's fall, and fled from the 
field of battle. They had arrived, haggard, at Dunbar's camp at 
mid -day ; the Indians* yells still ringing in their ears. "All was 
lost !" they cried. "Braddock was killed ! They had seen wounded 
officers borne off from the field in bloody sheets! The troops were 
all cut to pieces !" A panic fell upon the camp. The drums beat 
to arms. Many of the soldiers, wagoners and attendants, took to 
flight ; but most of them were forced back by the sentinels. 

Washington arrived at the camp in the evening, and found the 
agitation still prevailing. The orders which he brought were 
executed during the night, and he was in the saddle early in the 
morning accompanying the convoy of supplies. At Gist's planta- 
tion, about thirteen miles off, he met Gage and his scanty force 
escorting Braddock and his wounded officers. Captain Stewart 
and a sad remnant of the Virginia light horse still accompanied the 
general as his guard. The captain had been unremitting in his at- 
tentions to him during the retreat. There was a halt of one day at 
Dunbar's camp for the repose and relief of the wounded. On 
the 13th they resumed their melancholy march, and that night 
reached the Great Meadows. 

The proud spirit of Braddock was broken by his defeat. He 
remained silent the first evening after the battle, only ejaculating 
at night, " who would have thought it! " He was equally silent 
the following day; yet hope still seemed to linger in his breast, 
from another ejaculation : " We shall better know how to deal with 
them another time ! " 

He was grateful for the attentions paid to him by Captain Stewart 
and Washington, and more than once, it is said, expressed his 
admiration of the gallantry displayed by the Virginians in the 
action. It is said, moreover, that in his last moments, he apolo- 
gized to Washington for the petulance with which he had rejected 
his advice, and bequeathed to him his favorite charger and his 
faithful servant. Bishop, who had helped to convey him from the 
field. 

Some of these facts, it is true, rest on tradition, yet we are will- 
ing to believe them, as they impart a gleam of just and generous 
feeling to his closing scene. He died on the night of the 13th, at 
the Great Meadows, the place of Washington's discomfiture in the 
previous year. His obsequies were performed before break of day. 



175 5. J TRIUMPH OF THE FRENCH, 8i 

The chaplain having been wounded, Washington read the funeral 
service. AH- was done in sadness, and without parade, so as not 
to attract the attention of lurking savages, who might discover, 
and outrage his grave. It is doubtful even whether a volley was 
fired over it, that last mihtary honor which he had recently paid to the 
remains of an Indian warrior. The place of his sepulture, how- 
ever, is still known, and pointed out. 

Reproach spared him not, even when in his grave. The failure 
of the expedition was attributed both in England and America to 
his obstinacy, his technical pedantry, and his mihtary conceit. He 
had been continually warned to be on his guard against ambush 
and surprise, but without avail. Had he taken the advice urged 
on him by Washington and others to employ scouting parties of 
Indians and rangers, he would never have been so signally sur- 
prised and defeated. Still his dauntless conduct on the field of 
battle shows him to have been a man of fearless spirit ; and he 
was universally allowed to be an accomplished disciplinarian. His 
melancholy end, too, disarms censure of its asperity. Whatever 
may have been his faults and errors, he, in a manner, expiated 
them by the hardest lot that can befall a brave soldier, ambi- 
tious of renown — an unhonored grave in a strange land ; a 
memory clouded by misfortune, and a name forever coupled with 
defeat. 

The obsequies of the unfortunate Braddock being finished, the 
escort continued its retreat with the sick and wounded. Washing- 
ton, assisted by Dr. Craik, Avatched with assiduity over his com- 
rades, Orme and Morris, As the horses which bore their litters 
were nearly knocked up, he dispatched messengers to the 
commander of Fort Cumberland requesting that others might be 
sent on, and that comfortable quarters might be prepared for 
the reception of those officers. 

On the 17th, the sad cavalcade reached the fort, and were 
relieved from the incessant apprehension of pursuit. Here, too, 
flying reports had preceded them, brought by fugitives from the 
battle ; who, with the disposition usual in such cases to exaggerate, 
had represented the whole army as massacred. Fearing these 
reports might reach home, and affect his family, Washington 
wrote to his mother, and his brother, John Augustine, apprising 
them of his safety. "The Virginia troops," says he, in a letter to 
his mother, "showed a good deal of bravery, and were nearly all 
killed. * * -x- The dastardly behavior of those they called 
regulars exposed all others, that were ordered to do their duty, to 
almost certain death ; and, at last, in despite of all the efforts of 
the officers to the contrary, they ran, as sheep pursued by dogs, 
and it was impossible to rally them." 

To his brother, he writes : "As I have heard, since my arrival at 
this place, a circumstantial account of my death and dying speech, 
I take this early opportunity of contradicting the first, and of assur- 
ing you that I have not composed the latter. But, by the all-pow- 
erful dispensations of Providence, I have* been protected beyond 
all human probability, or expectation ; for I had four bullets through 



82 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

my coat, and two horses shot under me, yet escaped unhurt, though 
death was leveling my companions on every side of me ! 

" We have been most scandalously beaten by a trifling body of 
men, but fatigue and want of time prevent me from giving you any 
of the details, until 1 have the happiness of seeing you at Mount 
Vernon, which I now most earnestly wish for, since we are driven 
in thus far. A feeble state of health obliges me to halt here for 
two or three days to recover a little strength, that I may thereby 
be enabled to proceed homeward with more ease." 

Dunbar arrived shortly afterward with the remainder of the 
army. No one seems to have shared more largely in the panic of 
the vulgar than that officer. From the moment he received tidings 
of the defeat, his camp became a scene of confusion. All the 
ammunition, stores, and artillery were destroyed, to prevent, it was 
said, their falling into the hands of the enemy ; but, as it was after- 
ward alleged, to relieve the terror-stricken commander from all 
incumbrances, and furnish him with more horses in his flight 
toward the settlements. 

At Cumberland his forces amounted to fifteen hundred effective 
men ; enough for a brave stand to protect the frontier, and recover 
some of the lost honor ; but he merely paused to leave the sick and 
wounded under care of two Virginia and Maryland companies, 
and some of the train, and then continued his hasty march, or 
rather flight, through the country, not thinking himself safe, as 
was sneeringly intimated, until he arrived in Philadelphia, where 
the inhabitants could protect him. 

The true reason why the enemy did not pursue the retreating 
army was not known until some time afterward, and added to the 
disgrace of the defeat. They were not the main force of the 
French, but a mere detachment of 72 regulars, 146 Canadians, 
and 637 Indians, 855 in all, led by Captain de Beaujeu. 
De Contrecoeur, the commander of Fort Duquesne, had 
received information, through his scouts, that the English, 
three thousand strong, were within six leagues of his fort. 
Despairing of making an effectual defence against such a 
superior force, he was balancing in his mind whether to 
abandon his fort without awaiting their arrival, or to capitulate 
on honorable terms. In this dilemma Beaujeu prevailed on him 
to let him sally forth with a detachment to form an ambush, and 
give check to the enemy. De Beaujeu was to have taken post at 
the river, and disputed the passage at the ford. For that purpose 
he was huriying forwardwhendiscoveredby the pioneers of Gage's 
advance party. He was a gallant officer, and fell at the begin- 
ning of the fight. The whole number of killed and wounded of 
French and Indians, did not exceed seventy. 

Such was the scanty force which the imagination of the panic- 
sticken army had magnified into a great host, and from which they 
had field in breathless terror, abandoning the whole frontier. No 
one could be more surprised than the French commander himself, 
when the ambuscading party returned in triumph with a long train 
of pack-horses laden with booty, the savages uncouthly clad in 



1755-] COST OF CAMPAIGNING. 83 

the garments of the slain, grenadier caps, officers' gold-laced coats, 
and glittering epaulets ; flourishing swords and sabers, or firing 
off muskets, and uttering fiendlike yells of victory. But when De 
Contrecoeur was informed of the utter rout and destruction of the 
much dreaded British army, his joy was complete. He ordered 
the guns of the fort to be fired in triumph, and sent out troops in 
pursuit of the fugitive. 

The affair of Braddock remains a memorable event in American 
history, and has been characterized as "the most extraordinary 
victory ever obtained, and the farthest flight ever made." It 
struck a fatal blow to the deference for British prowess, which once 
amounted almost to bigotry, throughout the provinces. " This 
whole transaction," observes Frankfin, in his auto-biography, 
"gave us the first suspicion that our exalted ideas of the prowess 
of British regular troops had not been well founded." 

Washington arrived at Mount Vernon on the 26th of July, still 
in feeble condition from his long illness. His campaigning, thus far, 
had trenched upon his private fortune, and impaired one of the best 
of constitutions. 

In a letter to his brother Augustine, then a member of Assembly 
at Wilhamsburg, he casts up the result of his frontier experience. 

"I was employed," writes he, "to go a journey in the winter, 
when I believe few or none would have undertaken it, and what 
did I get by it? — my expenses borne ! I was then appointed, with 
trifling pay, to conduct a handful of men to the Ohio. What did I 
get by that? Why, after putting myself to a considerable expense 
in equipping and providing necessaries for the campaign, I went 
out, was soundly beaten, and lost all ! Came in, and had my com- 
mission taken from me ; or, in other words, my command reduced, 
under pretence of an order from home (England). I then went 
out a volunteer with General Braddock, and lost all my horses, and 
many other things. But this being a voluntary act, I ought not to 
have mentioned it ; nor should I have done it. were it not to show 
that I have been on thelosingorder ever since I entered the service, 
which is now nearly two years." 

What a striking lesson is furnished by this brief summaiy ! How 
little was he aware of the vast advantages he was acquiring in this 
school of bitter experience! "In the hand of heaven he stood," 
to be shaped and trained for its great purpose ; and every trial and 
vicissitude of his early life, but fitted him to cope with one or other 
of the varied and multifarious duties of his future destiny. 

But though, under the saddening influence of debility and de- 
feat, he might count the cost of his campaigning, the martial spirit 
still burned within him. His connection wqth the army, it is true, 
had ceased at the death of Braddock, but his military duties con- 
tinued as adjutant-general of the northern division of the province, 
and he immediately issued orders for the county lieutenants to hold 
the militia in readiness for parade and exercise, forseeing that, in 
the present defenceless state of the frontier, there would be need of 
their services. 

Tidings of the rout and retreat of the army had circulated far 



84 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and near, and spread consternation throughout the country. Im- 
mediate incursions both of French and Indians were apprehended ; 
and volunteer companies began to form, for the purpose of march- 
ing across the mountains to the scene of danger. It was intimated 
to Washington tliat his services would again be wanted on the 
frontier. He declared instantly that he was ready to serve his 
country to the extent of his powers ; but never on the same terms 
as heretofore. 

On the 4th of August, Governor Dinwiddle convened the Assem- 
bly to devise measures for the public safety. The sense of danger 
had quickened the slow patriotism of the burgesses ; they no 
longer held back supplies ; forty thousand pounds were promptly 
voted, and orders issued for the raising of a regiment of one thou- 
sand men. 

Washington's friends urged him to present himself at Williams- 
burg as a candidate for the command ; they were confident of his 
success, notwithstanding that strong interest was making for the 
governor's favorite. Colonel Innes. 

With mingled modesty and pride, Washington dechned to be a 
solicitor. The only terms, he said, on which he would accept a 
command, were a certainty as to rank and emoluments, a right to 
appoint his field officers, and the supply of a sufficient military 
chest; but to solicit the command, and, at the same time, to make 
stipulations, would be a little incongruous, and carry with it the 
face of self-sufficiency. " If," added he, "the command should be 
offered to me, the case will then be altered, as I should be at 
liberty to make sucli objections as reason, and my small experience, 
have pointed out." 

While this was in agitation, he received letters from his mother, 
again imploring him not to risk himself in these frontier wars. His 
answer was characteristic, blending the filial deference with which 
he was accustomed from childhood to treat her, with a calm patriot- 
ism of the Roman stamp. 

"Honored Madam : If it is in my power to avoid going to Ohio 
again, I shall ; but if the command is pressed upon me by the 
general voice of the country, and offered upon such terms as can- 
not be objected against, it would reflect dishonor on me to refuse 
it; and that, I am sure, must, and ought, to give you greater un- 
easiness, than my going in an honorable command. Upon no other 
terms will I accept it. At present I have no proposals made to 
me, nor have I any advice of such an intention, except from pri- 
vate hands." 

On the very day that this letter was dispatched (Aug. 14), he 
received intelligence of his appointment to the command on the 
terms specified in his letters to his friends. His commission nomi- 
nated him commander-in-chief of all the forces raised, or to be 
raised, in the colony. The Assembly also voted three hundred 
pounds to him, and proportionate sums to the other officers, and to 
the privates of the Virginia companies, in consideration of their 
gallant conduct, and their losses in the late battle. 

The officers next in command under him were Lieutenant-Colonel 



17 5 5-] WASHINGTON IN COMMAND. 85 

Adam Stephens, and Major Andrew Lewis. The former, it will be 
recollected, had been with him in the unfortunate affair at the 
Great Meadows ; his advance in rank shows that his conduct had 
been meritorious. 

The appointment of Washington to his present station was the 
more gratifying and honorable from being a popular one, made in 
deference to public sentiment ; to which Governor Dinwiddle was 
obliged to sacrifice his strong inclination in favor of Colonel Innes. 
It is thought that the governor never afterward regarded Washing- 
ton with a friendly eye. His conduct toward him subsequently 
was on various occasions cold and ungracious. 

It is worthy of note that the early popularity of Washington was 
not the result of brilliant achievements nor signal success ; on the 
contrary, it arose among trials and reverses, and may almost be 
said to have been the fruits of defeats. It remains an honorable 
testimony of Virginian intelligence, that the sterling, enduring, but 
undazzling qualities of Washington were thus early discerned and 
appreciated, though only heralded by misfortunes. The admirable 
manner in which he had conducted himself under these misfortunes, 
and the sagacity and practical wisdom he had displayed on all oc- 
casions, were universally acknowledged ; and it was observed that, 
had his modest counsels been adopted by the unfortunate Brad- 
dock, a totally different result might have attended the late cam- 
paign. 

An instance of this high appreciation of his merits occurs in a 
sermon preached on the 17th of August by the Rev. Samuel Davis, 
wherein he cites him as "that heroic youth. Colonel Washington, 
whom I cannot but hope Providence has hitherto preserved in so 
signal a manner for some important service to his country*^ The 
expressions of the worthy clergyman may have been deemed en- 
thusiastic at the time ; viewed in connection with subsequent events 
they appear almost prophetic. 

Having held a conference with Governor Dinwiddle at Wilhams- 
burg, and received his instructions, Washington repaired, on the 
14th of September, to Winchester, where he fixed his headquar- 
ters. It was a place as yet of trifling magnitude, but important 
from its position ; being a central point where the main roads met, 
leading from north to south, and east to west, and commanding the 
channels of traffic and communication between some of the most 
important colonies and a great extent of frontier. 

Here he was brought into frequent and cordial communication 
with his old friend Lord Fairfax. The stir of war had revived a 
spark of that military fire which animated the veteran nobleman in 
the days of his youth, when an officer in the cavalry regiment of 
the Blues, He was lord-lieutenant of the county. Greenway 
Court was his headquarters. He had organized a troop of horse, 
which occasionally was exercised about the lawn of his domain, 
and he was now as prompt to mount his steed for a cavalry parade 
as he ever was for a fox chase. The arrival of Washington fre- 
quently brought the old nobleman to Winchester, to aid the young 
commander with his counsels or his sword. 



86 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

His services were soon put in requisition. Washington, having 
visited the frontier posts, established recruiting places, and taken 
other measures of security, had set off for Williamsburg on military 
business, when an express arrived at Winchester from Colonel 
Stephens, who commanded at Fort Cumberland, giving the alarm 
that a body of Indians were ravaging the country, burning the 
houses and slaughtering the inhabitants. The express was in- 
stantly forwarded after Washington ; in the meantime. Lord Fair- 
fax sent out orders for the militia of Fairfax and Prince William 
counties to arm and hasten to the defence of Winchester, where all 
was confusion and affright. One fearful account followed another. 
The whole country beyond it was said to be at the mercy of the 
savages. They had blockaded the rangers in the little fortresses or 
outposts provided for the protection of neighborhoods. They were 
advancing upon Winchester with fire, tomahawk, and scalping- 
knife. The country people were flocking into the town for safety — 
the townspeople were moving off to the settlements beyond the 
Blue Ridge. The beautiful valley of the Shenandoah was likely to 
become a scene of savage desolation. 

In the height of the confusion Washington rode into the town. 
He had been overtaken by Colonel Stephens' express. His pres- 
ence inspired some degree of confidence, and he succeeded in stop- 
ping most of the fugitives. He would have taken the field at once 
against the savages, believing their numbers to be few ; but not 
more than twenty-five of the militia could be mustered for the ser- 
vice. The rest refused to stir — they would rather die with their 
wives and children. 

Expresses were sent off to hurry up the militia ordered out by 
Lord Fairfax. Scouts were ordered out to discover the number of 
the foe, and convey assurances of succor to the rangers said to be 
blocked up in the fortresses, though Washington suspected the latter 
to be "more encompassed by fear than by the enemy." Smiths 
were set to work to furbish up and repair such firearms as were in 
the place, and wagons were sent off for musket balls, flints, and 
provisions. 

At length the band of Indians, whose ravages had produced this 
consternation throughout the land, and whose numbers did not 
exceed one hundred and fifty, being satiated with carnage, con- 
flagration, and plunder, retreated, bearing off spoils and captives. 
Intelligent scouts sent out by Washington, followed their traces, and 
brought back certain intelligence that they had recrossed the Alle- 
gany Mountains and returned to their homes on the Ohio. This 
report allayed the public panic and restored temporary quiet to the 
harassed frontier. 

. Most of the Indians engaged in these ravages were Delawares 
and Shawnees, who, since Braddock's defeat, had been gained over 
by the French. A principal instigator was said to be Washington's 
old acquaintance, Shengis, and a reward was offered for his head. 

Scarooyadi, successor to the half-king, remained true to the 
English, and vindicated his people to the Governor and Council of 
Pennsylvania from the charge of having had any share in the late 



I755-] PANIC AT WINCHESTER. 87 

massacres. As to the defeat at the Monongahela, "it was owing," 
he said, "to the pride and ignorance of that great general (Brad- 
dock) that came from England. He is now dead ; but he was a 
bad man when he was alive. He looked upon us as dogs, and 
would never hear anything that was said to him. We often en- 
deavored to advise him, and tell him of the danger he was in with 
his soldiers ; but he never appeared pleased with us, and that was 
the reason that a great many of our warriors left him." 

Scarooyadi was ready with his warriors to take up the hatchet 
again with their English brothers against the French. "Let us 
unite our strength," said he; "you are numerous, and all the 
English governors along your sea-shore can raise men enough ; but 
don't let those that come from over the great seas be concerned 
any more. They are ii7ifit to fight in the woods. Let us go our- 
selves — we that came out of this ground. '' 

No one felt more strongly than Washington the importance, at 
this trying juncture, of securing the assistance of these forest war- 
riors. " It is in their power," said he, " to be of infinite use to us ; 
arid without Indians, we shall never be able to cope with these cruel 
foes to our country." 

Washington had now time to inform himself of the fate of the 
other enterprises included in this year's plan of military operations. 
We shall briefly dispose of them, for the sake of carrying on the 
general course of events. The history of Washington is hnked 
with the history of the colonies. The defeat of Braddock para- 
lyzed the expedition against Niagara. Many of General Shirley's 
troops, which were assembled at Albany, struck with the consterna- 
tion which it caused throughout the country, deserted. Most of 
the bateau men, who were to transport stores by various streams, 
returned home. It was near the end of August before Shirley was 
in force at Oswego. Time was lost in building boats for the lake. 
Storms and head winds ensued; then sickness: military incapacity 
in the general completed the list of impediments. Deferring the 
completion of the enterprise until the following year, Shirley re- 
turned to Albany with the main part of his forces in October, leav- 
ing about seven hundred men to garrison the fortifications he had 
commenced at Oswego. 

To General William Johnson, it will be recollected, had been 
confided the expedition against Crown Point, on Lake Champlain. 
Preparations were made for it in Albany, whence the troops were 
to march, and the artillery, ammunition, and stores to be conveyed 
up the Hudson to the caiTying-place between that river and Lake 
St. Sacrament, as it was termed by the French, but Lake George, 
as Johnson named it, in honor of his sovereign. At the carrying- 
place a fort was commenced, subsequently called Fort Edward. 
Part of the troops remained under General Lyman, to comj_lete 
and garrison it ; the main force proceeded under General Johnson 
to Lake George, the plan being to descend that lake to its outlet 
at Ticonderoga, in Lake Champlain. Having to attend the arrival 
of bateaux forwarded for the purpose from Albany by the carry- 
ing-place, Johnson encamj cd at the Ecuth end cf the lake. He had 



88 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

with him between five and six thousand troops of New York and 
New England, and a host of Mohawk warriors, loyally devoted to 
him. 

It so happened that a Frenek force of upward of three thousand 
men under the Baron de Dieskau, an old general of high reputation, 
had recently arrived at Quebec, destined against Oswego. The 
baron had proceeded to Montreal, and sent forward thence seven 
hundred of his troops, when news arrived of the army gathering 
on Lake George for the attack on Crown Point, perhaps for an 
inroad into Canada. The public were in consternation ; yielding to 
their importunities, the baron took post at Crown Point for its 
defence. Besides his regular troops, he had with him eight hun- 
dred Canadians, and seven hundred Indians of different tribes. 
The latter were under the general command of the Chevalier 
Legardeur de St. Pierre, the veteran officer to whom Washington 
had delivered the dispatches of Governor Dinwiddie on his diplo- 
matic mission to the frontier. The chevalier was a man of great 
influence among the Indians. 

In the mean time Johnson remained encamped at the south end 
of Lake George, awaiting the arrival of his bateaux. The camp 
was protected in the rear by the lake, in front by a bulwark of 
felled trees ; and was flanked by thickly wooded swamps. 

On the 7th of September, the Indian scouts brought word that 
they had discovered three large roads made through the forests 
toward Fort Edward. An attack on that post was apprehended. 
Adams, a hardy wagoner, rode express with orders to the com- 
mander to draw all the troops within the works. About midnight 
came other scouts. They had seen the French within four miles of 
the carrying-place. They had heard the report of a musket, and 
the voice of a man crying for mercy, supposed to be the unfortu- 
nate Adams. In the morning Colonel Williams was detached with 
one thousand men, and two hundred Indians, to intercept the 
enemy in their retreat. 

Within two hours after their departure a heavy fire of musketry, 
in the midst of the forest, about three or four miles off, told of a 
warm encounter. The drums beat to arms ; all were at their posts. 
The firing grew sharper and sharper, and nearer and nearer. The 
detachment under WilHams was evidently retreating. Colonel 
Cole was sent with three hundred men to cover their retreat. The 
breast-work of trees was manned. Some heavy cannon were 
dragged up to strengthen the front, A number of men were 
stationed with a field-piece on an eminence on the left flank. 

In a short time fugitives made their appearance ; first singly, then 
in masses, flying in confusion, with a rattling fire behind them, 
and the horrible Indian war-whoop. Consternation seized upon 
the camp, especially when the French emerged from the forest in 
battle array, led by the Baron Dieskau, the gallant commander of 
Crown Point. Had all his troops been as daring as himself, the 
camp might have been carried by assault ; but the Canadians and 
Indians held back, posted themselves behind trees, and took to 
bush-fighting. 



I755-] DIESKAU LEADS THE FRENCH. 89 

The baron was left with his regulars (two hundred grenadiers) in 
front of the camp. He kept up a fire by platoons, but at too great 
a distance to do much mischief; the Canadians and Indians fired 
from their coverts. The artillery played on them in return. The 
camp, having recovered from its panic, opened a fire of musketry. 
The engagement became general. The French grenadiers stood 
their ground bravely for a long time, but were dreadfully cut up by 
the artillery and small-arms. The action slackened on the part of 
the French, until, after a long contest, they gave way. Johnson's 
men and the Indians then leaped over the breast-work, and a 
chance medley fight ensued, that ended in the slaughter, rout, or 
capture of the enemy. 

The Baron de Dieskau had been disabled by a wound in the leg. 
One of his men, who endeavored to assist him, was shot down by 
his side. The baron, left alone in the retreat, was found by the 
pursuers leaning against the stump of a tree. As they approached, 
he felt for his watch to insure kind treatment by delivering it up. 
A soldier, thinking he was drawing forth a pistol to defend himself, 
shot him through the hips. He was conveyed a prisoner to the 
camp, but ultimately died of his wounds. 

The baron had really set off from Crown Point to surprise Fort 
Edward, and, if successful, to push on to Albany and Schenectady ; 
lay them in ashes, and cut off all communication with Oswego. 
The Canadians and Indians, however, refused to attack the fort, 
fearful of its cannon ; he had changed his plan, therefore, and 
determined to surprise the camp. In the encounter with the 
detachment under Williams, the brave Chevaher Legardeur de St. 
Pierre lost his life. On the part of the Americans, Hendrick, a 
famous old Mohawk sachem, grand ally of General Johnson, was 
slain. 

Johnson himself received a slight wound early in the action, and 
retired to his tent. He did not follow up the victory as he should 
have done, alleging tliat it was first necessary to build a strong fort 
at his encampment, by way of keeping up a communication with 
Albany, and by the time this was completed, it would be too late to 
advance against Crown Point. He accordingly erected a stock- 
aded fort, which received the name of William Henry ; and having 
garrisoned it, returned to Albany. His services, although they 
gained him no laurel-wreath, were rewarded by government with 
five thousand pounds, and a baronetcy ; and he was made Super- 
intendent of Indian Affairs. 

Mortifying experience had convinced Washington of the ineffi- 
ciency of the militia laws, and he noAv set about effecting a 
reformation. Through his great and persevering efforts, an act 
was passed in the Virginia Legislature giving prompt operation to 
courts-martial ; punishing insubordination, mutiny and desertion 
with adequate severity ; strengthening the authority of a com- 
mander, so as to enable him to enforce order and discipline among 
officers as well as privates ; and to avail himself, in time of 
emergency, and for the common safety, of the means and services 
of individuals. 



90 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

This being effected, he proceeded to fill up his companies, and 
to enforce this newly defined authority within his camp. All 
gaming, drinking, quarreling, swearing, and similar excesses, were 
prohibited under severe penalties. 

In disciphning his men, they were instructed not merely in 
ordinary and regular tactics, but in all the strategy of Indian 
warfare, and what is called "bush-fighting," — a knowledge indis- 
pensable in the wild wars. of the wilderness. Stockaded forts, too, 
were constructed at various points, as places of refuge and defence, 
in exposed neighborhoods. Under shelter of these, the inhabitants 
began to return to their deserted homes. A shorter and better 
road, also, was opened by him between Winchester and Cumber- 
land, for the transmission of reinforcements and supplies. 

His exertions, however, were impeded by one of those questions 
of precedence, which had so often annoyed him, arising from the 
difference between crown and provincial commissions. Maryland 
having by a scanty appropriation raised a small militia force, 
stationed Captain Dagworthy, with a company of thirty men, at 
Fort Cumberland, which stood within the boundaries of that 
province. Dagworthy had served in Canada in the preceding war, 
and had received a king's commission. This he had since com- 
muted for half-pay, and, of course, had virtually parted with its 
privileges. He was nothing more, therefore, than a Maryland 
provincial captain, at the head of thirty men. He now, however, 
assumed to act under his royal commission, and refused to obey 
the orders of any officer, however high his rank, who merely held 
his commission from a governor. Nay, when Governor, or rather 
Colonel Innes, who commanded at the fort, was called away to 
North Carolina by his private affairs, the captain took upon himself 
the command, and insisted upon it as his right. 

Washington refrained from mingling in this dispute ; but 
intimated that if the commander-in-chief of the force of Virginia 
must yield precedence to a Maryland captain of thirty men, he 
should have to resign his commission, as he had been compelled to 
do before, by a question of military rank. 

So difficult was it, however, to settle these disputes of pre- 
cedence, especially where the claims of two governors came in 
collision, that it was determined to refer the matter to Major-Gen- 
eral Shirley, who had succeeded Braddock in the general command 
of the colonies. For this purpose Washington was to goto Boston, 
obtain a decision from Shirley of the point in dispute, and a 
general regulation, by which these difficulties could be prevented 
in future. It was thought, also, that in a conference with the com- 
mander-in-chief he might inform himself of the mihtary measures 
in contemplation. 

Accordingly, on the 4th of February (1756), leaving Colonel 
Adam Stephen in command of the troops, Washington set out on 
his mission, accompanied by his aide-de-camp. Captain George 
Mercer of Virginia, and Captain Stewart of the Virginia light 
horse ; the officer who had taken care of General Braddock in his 
last moments. 



1755-] JOURNEY TO BOSTON. 91 

In those days the convenience of traveling, even between our 
main cities, were few, and the roads execrable. The party, there- 
fore, traveled in Virginia style, on horseback, attended by their 
black servants in hvery. In this way they accomplished a journey 
of five hundred miles in the depth of winter ; stopping for some 
days at Philadelphia and New York. Those cities were then com- 
paratively small, and the arrival of a party of young Southern 
officers attracted attention. The late disastrous battle was still the 
theme of every tongue, and the honorable way in which these 
young officers had acquitted themselves in it, made them objects of 
universal interest. Washington's fame, especially, had gone before 
him ; having been spread by the officers who had served with him, 
and by the pubUc honors decreed him by the Virginia Legislature. 
"Your name," wrote his former fellow-campaigner, Gist, in a letter 
dated in the preceding autumn, " is more talked of in Philadel- 
phia than that of any other person in the army, and everybody 
seems wilhng to venture under your command." 

With these prepossessions in his favor, when we consider Wash- 
ington's noble person and demeanor, his consummate horseman- 
ship, the admirable horses he was accustomed to ride, and the 
aristocratical style of his equipments, we may imagine the eff"ect 
produced by himself and his little cavalcade, as they clattered 
through the streets of Philadelphia, and New York, and Boston. 
It is needless to say, their sojourn in each city was a continual fete. 

The mission to General Shirley was entirely successful as to the 
question of rank. A written order from the commander-in-chief 
determined that Dagworthy was entitled to the rank of a provincial 
captain, only, and, of course, must on all occasions give preced- 
ence to Colonel Washington, as a provincial field officer. The lat- 
ter was disappointed, however, in the hope of getting himself and 
his officers put upon the regular establishment, with commissions 
from the king, and had to remain subjected to mortifying questions 
of rank and etiquette, when serving in company with regular 
troops. 

From General Shirley he learned that the main objects of the en- 
suing campaign would be the reduction of Fort Niagara, so as to cut 
off" the communication between Canada and Louisiana, the cap- 
ture of Ticonderoga and Crown Point, as a measure of safety for 
New York, the besieging of Fort Duquesne, and the menacing of 
Quebec by a body of troops which were to advance by the Kene- 
bec River. 

The official career of General Shirley was drawing to a close. 
Though a man of good parts, he had always, until recently, acted 
in a civil capacity, and proved incompetent to conduct military oper- 
ations. He was recalled to England, and was to be superceded 
by General Abercrombie, who was coming out with two regiments. 

The general command in America, however, was to be held by 
the Earl of Loudoun, who was invested with powers almost equal 
to those of a viceroy, being placed above all the colonial gover- 
nors. These might claim to be civil and military representatives of 
their sovereign within their respective colonies; but, even there, 



92 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

were bound to defer and yield precedence to this their official su- 
perior. This was part of a plan devised long ago, but now first 
brought into operation, by which the ministry hoped to unite the 
colonies under military rule, and oblige the Assemblies, magistrates, 
and people to furnish quarters and provide a general fund subject 
to the control of this military dictator. 

Besides his general command, the Earl of Loudoun was to be 
governor of Virginia and colonel of a royal-American regiment of 
four battalions, to be raised in the colonies, but furnished with offi- 
cers who, like himself, had seen foreign service. The campaign 
would open on his arrival, which, it was expected, would be early 
in the spring ; and brilliant results were anticipated. 

Washington remained ten days in Boston, attending, with great 
interest, the meetings of the Massachusetts Legislature, in which 
the plan of military operations was ably discussed ; and receiving 
the most hospitable attentions from the polite and intelligent society 
of the place, after which he returned to New York. 

Tradition gives very different motives from those of business for 
his two sojourns in the latter city. He found there an early friend 
and school-mate, Beverly Robinson, son of John Robinson, speaker 
of the Virginia House of Burgesses. 

He was living happily and prosperously with a young and wealthy 
bride, having married one of the nieces and heiresses of Mr. Adol- 
phus Philipse, a rich landholder, whose manor-house is still to be 
seen on the banks of the Hudson. At the house of Mr. Beverly 
Robinson, where Washington was an honored guest, he met Miss 
Mary Philipse, sister of and co-heiress with Mrs. Robinson, a young 
lady whose personal attractions are said to have rivaled her reputed 
wealth. 

We have already given an instance of W^ashington's early sensi- 
bility to female charms. A fife, however, of constant activity and 
care, passed for the most part in the wilderness and on the frontier, 
far from female society, had left little mood or leisure for the indul- 
gence of the tender sentiment ; but made him more sensible, in the 
present brief interval of gay and social Hfe, to the attractions of an 
elegant woman, brought up in the polite circle of New York. 

That he was an open admirer of Miss Philipse is an historical fact ; 
that he sought her hand, but was refused, is traditional and not 
very probable. His military rank, his early laurels and distin- 
guished presence, were all calculated to win favor in female eyes; 
but his sojourn in New York was brief ; he may have been diffi- 
dent in urging his suit with a lady accustomed to the homage of 
society and surrounded by admirers. The most probable version 
of the story is, that he was called away by his public duties before 
he had made sufficient approaches in his siege of the lady's heart 
to warrant a summons to surrender. In the latter part of March 
we find him at Williamsburg attending the opening of the Legisla- 
ture of Virginia, eager togpromote measures for the protection of 
the frontier and the capture of Fort Duquesne, the leading object 
of his ambition. Maryland and Pennsylvania were erecting forts 
for the defence of their own borders, but showed no disposition to 



1756.] RETURN TO WINCHESTER. 93 

co-operate with Virginia in the field ; and artillery, artillerymen, 
and engineers were wanting for an attack on the fortified places. 
Washington urged, therefore, an augmentation of the provincial 
forces, and various improvements in the militia laws. 

While thus engaged, he received a letter from a friend and confi- 
dant in New York, warning him to hasten back to that city before 
it was too late, as Captain Morris, who had been his fellow aid-de- 
camp under Braddock, was laying close siege to Miss Philipse. 
Sterner alarms, however, summoned him in another direction. 
Expresses from Winchester brought word that the French had 
made another sortie from Fort Duquesne, accompanied by a band 
of savages, and were spreading terror and desolation through the 
country. In this moment of exigency all softer claims were forgot- 
ten ; Washington repaired in all haste to his post at Winchester, and 
Captain Morris was left to urge his suit unrivaled and carry off the 
prize. 

Report had not exaggerated the troubles of the frontier. It was 
marauded by merciless bands of savages, led in some instances, by 
Frenchmen. Travelers were murdered, farm-houses burnt down, 
families butchered, and even stockaded forts, or houses of refuge, 
attacked in open day. The marauders had crossed the mountains 
and penetrated the valley of the Shenandoah ; and several persons 
had fallen beneath the tomahawk in the neighborhood of Winchester. 

Washington's old friend. Lord Fairfax, found himself no longer 
safe in his rural abode. Greenway Court was in the midst of a 
woodland region, affording a covert approach for the stealthy sav- 
age. His lordship was considered a great chief, whose scalp would 
be an inestimable trophy for an Indian warrior. 

Washington on his arrival at Winchester, found the inhabitants 
in great dismay. He resolved immediately to organize a force, 
composed partly of troops from Fort Cumberland, partly of militia 
from Winchester and its vicinity, to put himself at its head, and 
"scour the woods and suspected places in all the mountains and 
valleys of this part of the frontier, in quest of the Indians and their 
more cruel associates." 

An attack on Winchester was apprehended, and the terrors of 
the people rose to agony. They now turned to Washington as their 
main hope. The women surrounded him, holding up their chil- 
dren, and imploring him with tears and cries to save them from the 
savages. The youthful commander looked round on the suppliant 
crowd with a countenance beaming with pity, and a heart wrung 
with anguish. A letter to Governor Dinwiddle shows the conflict 
of his feehngs. " I am too little acquainted with pathetic language 
to attempt a description of these people's distresses. But what can 
I do ? I see their situation ; I know their danger, and participate in 
their sufferings, without having it in my power to give them further 
relief than uncertain promises." — " The supplicating tears of the 
women, and moving petitions of the men, melt me into such deadly 
sorrow, that I solemnly declare, if I know my own mind, I could 
offer myself a willing sacrifice to the butchering enemy, provided 
that would contribute to the people's ease." 



94 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

The measure of relief voted by the Assembly was an additional 
appropriation of twenty thousand pounds, and an increase of the 
provincial force to fifteen hundred men. With this, it was proposed 
to erect and garrison a chain of frontier forts, extending through 
the ranges of the Allegheny Mountains, from the Potomac to the 
borders of North Carolina ; a distance of between three and four 
hundred miles. This was one of the inconsiderate projects devised 
by Governor Dinwiddie. 

Washington, in letters to the governor and to the speaker of the 
House of Burgesses, urged the impolicy of such a plan, with their 
actual force and means. The forts, he observed, ought to be 
within fifteeen or eighteen miles of each other, that their spies 
might be able to keep watch over the intervening country, other- 
wise the Indians would pass between them unperceived, effect 
their ravages, and escape to the mountains, swamps, and ravines, 
before the troops from the forts could be assembled to pursue them. 
They ought each to be garrisoned with eighty or a hundred men, 
so as to afford detachments of sufficient strength, without leaving 
the garrison too weak ; for the Indians are the most stealthy and 
patient of spies and lurkers ; will lie in wait for days together 
about small forts of the kind, and, if they find, by some chance 
prisoner, that the garrison is actually w-eak, will first surprise and 
cut off its scouting parties, and then attack the fort itself. It was 
evident, therefore, observed he, that to garrison properly such a line 
of forts, would require, at least, two thousand men. And even 
then, a line of such extent might be broken through at one end 
before the other end could yield assistance. Feint attacks, also, 
might be made at one point, while the real attack was made at 
another, quite distant ; and the country be overrun before its 
widely-posted defenders could be alarmed and concentrated. Then 
must be taken into consideration the immense cost of building so 
many forts, and the constant and consuming expense of supplies 
and transportation. 

In the height of the alarm, a company of one hundred gentle- 
men, mounted and equipped, volunteered their services to repair 
to the frontier. They were headed by Peyton Randolph, attor- 
ney-general, a man deservedly popular throughout the province. 
Their offer was gladly accepted. They were denominated the 
" Gentlemen Associators," and great expectations, of course, were 
entertained from their gallantry and devotion. They were em- 
powered, also, to aid with their judgment in the selection of places 
for frontier forts. 

The repeated inroads of the savages called for an effectual and 
permanent check. The idea of being constantly subject to the ir- 
ruptions of a deadly foe, that moved with stealth and mystery, and 
was only to be traced by its ravages, and counted by its footprints, 
discouraged all settlement of the country. The beautiful valley of 
the Shenandoah was fast becoming a deserted and a silent place. 
Her people, for the most part, had fled to the older settlements 
south of the mountains, and the Blue Ridge was likely soon to be- 
come virtually the frontier line of the province. 



1756.] ESCAPE OF CAPT. MERCER. 95 

We have to record one signal act of retaliation on the perfidious 
tribes of the Ohio, in which a person whose name subsequently be- 
came dear to Americans, was concerned. Prisoners who had es- 
caped from the savages reported that Shingis, Washington's faith- 
less ally, and another sachem called Captain Jacobs, were the two 
heads of the hostile bands that had desolated the frontier. That 
they lived at Kittanning, an Indian town, about forty miles above 
Fort Duquesne ; at which their warriors were fitted out for incur- 
sions, and whither they returned with their prisoners and plunder. 
Captain Jacobs was a daring fellow, and scoffed at pahsadoed 
forts. "He could take any fort," he said, " that would catch 
fire." 

A party of two hundred and eighty provincials, resolute men, un- 
dertook to surprise, and destroy this savage nest. It was com- 
manded by Colonel John Armstrong ; and with him went Dr. Hugh 
Mercer, of subsequent renown, who had received a captain's com- 
mission from Pennsylvania, on the 6th of March, 1756. 

The object of the expedition was accomplished. Thirty of forty 
of the warriors were slain ; their stronghold was a smoking ruin. 
There was danger of the victors being cut off by a detachment, 
from Fort Duquesne. They made the best of their way, therefore, 
to their horses, which had been left at a distance, and set off rap- 
idly on their march to Fort Lyttleton, about sixty miles north of 
Fort Cumberland. 

Throughout the summer of 1756, Washington exerted himself 
diligently in carrying out measures determined upon for frontier 
security. The great fortress at Winchester was commenced, and 
the work urged forward as expeditiously as the delays and perplex- 
ities incident to a badly organized service would permit. It 
received the name of Fort Loudoun, in honor of the commander- 
in-chief, whose arrival in Virginia was hopefully anticipated. 

As to the sites of the frontier posts, they were decided upon by 
Washington and his officers, after frequent and long consultations ; 
parties were sent out to work on them, and men recruited, and 
militia drafted, to garrison them. Washington visited occasionally 
such as were in progress, and near at hand. In the autumn, he 
made a tour of inspection along the whole line, accompanied by his 
friend. Captain Hugh Mercer, who had recovered from his recent 
wounds. This tour furnished repeated proofs of the inefficiency of 
the militia system. In one place he attempted to raise a force with 
which to scour a region infested by roving bands of savages. After 
waiting several days, but five men answered to his summons. In 
another place, where three companies had been ordered to the 
relief of a fort, attacked by the Indians, all that could be mustered 
were a captain, a lieutenant, and seven or eight men. 

While these events were occuring on the Virginia frontier, 
military affairs went on tardily and heavily at the north. The 
campaign against Canada, which was to have opened early in the 
year, hung fire. The armament coming out for the purpose, under 
Lord Loudoun, was delayed through the want of energy and 
union in the British cabinet. General Abercrombie, who was to 



96 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

be next in command to his lordship, and to succeed to General 
Shirley, set sail in advance for New York with two regiments, but 
did not reach Albany, the headquarters of military operation, until 
the 25th of June. He billeted his soldiers upon the town, much to 
the disgust of the inhabitants, and talked of ditching and stock- 
ading it, but postponed all exterior enterprises until the arrival of 
Lord Loudoun ; then the campaign was to open in earnest. 

On the 1 2th of July, came word that the forts Ontario and 
Oswego, on each side of the mouth of the Oswego River, were 
menaced by the French. They had been imperfectly constructed 
by Shirley, and were insufficiently garrisoned, yet contained a 
great amount of mihtary and naval stores, and protected the ves- 
sels which cruised on Lake Ontario. 

Major-General Webb was ordered by Abercrombie to hold him- 
self in readiness to march with one regiment to the relief of these 
forts, but received no further orders. Everything awaited the 
arrival at Albany of Lord Loudoun, which at length took place, 
on the 29th of July. There were now at least ten thousand troops, 
regulars and provincials, loitering in an idle camp at Albany, yet 
relief to Oswego was still delayed. Lord Loudoun was in favor of 
it, but the governments of New York and New England urged the 
immediate reduction, of Crown Point, as necessary for the security 
of their frontier. After much debate, it was agreed that General 
Webb should march to the relief of Oswego. He left Albany on 
the 1 2th of August, but had scarce reached the carrying-place, 
between the Mohawk River and Wood Creek, when he received 
news that Oswego was reduced, and its garrison captured. While 
the British commanders had debated. Field-marshal the Marquis 
De Montcalm, newly arrived from France, had acted. He was a 
different kind of soldier from Abercombie or Loudoun. A capa- 
cious mind and enterprising spirit animated a small, but active and 
untiring frame. Quick in thought, quick in speech, quicker still 
in action, he comprehended everything at a glance, and moved 
from point to point of the province with a celerity and secrecy 
that completely baffled his slow and pondering antagonists. Crown 
Point and Ticonderoga were visited, and steps taken to strengthen 
their works and provide for their security ; then hastening to Mon- 
treal, he put himself at the head of a force of regulars, Canadians, 
and Indians ; ascended the St. Lawrence to Lake Ontario ; 
blocked up the mouth of the Oswego by his vessels, landed his 
guns, and beseiged the two forts ; drove the garrison out of one 
into the other ; killed the commander. Colonel Mercer, and com- 
pelled the garrisons to surrender prisoners of war. With the forts 
was taken an immense amount of military stores, ammunition, and 
provisions ; one hundred and twenty-one cannon, fourteen mortars, 
six vessels of war, a vast number of bateaux, and three chests of 
money. His blow achieved, Montcalm returned in triumph to 
Montreal, and sent the colors of the captured forts to be hung up 
as trophies in the Canadian churches. 

Scarce had the tidings of his lordship's departure reached Can- 
ada, when the active Montcalm again took the field, to follow up 



I757-] DISASTER AT LOU/SB URG. 97 

the successes of the preceding year. Fort William Henry, which 
Sir Wm. Johnson had erected on the southern shore of Lake 
George, was now his object; it commanded the lake, and was an 
important protection to the British frontier. A brave old officer, 
Colonel Monro, with above five hundred men, formed the garri- 
son; more than three times that number of militia were intrenched 
near by. Montcalm had, early in the season, made three ineffect- 
ual attempts upon the fort ; he now trusted to be more successful. 
Collecting his forces from Crown Point, Ticonderoga, and the ad- 
jacent posts, with a considerable r^umber of Canadians and In- 
dians, altogether nearly eight thousand men, he advanced up the 
lake, on the ist of August, in a fleet of boats, with swarms of Indian 
canoes in the advance. The fort came near being surprised; but 
the troops encamped without it, abandoned their tents and hurried 
within the works. A summons to surrender was answered by a 
brave defiance. Montcalm invested the fort, made his approaches 
and battered it with his artillery. For five days its veteran com- 
mander kept up a vigorous defence, trusting to receive assistance 
from General Webb, who had failed to relieve Fort Oswego in the 
preceding year, and who was now at Fort Edward, about fifteen 
miles distant, with upward of five thousand men. Instead of this, 
Webb, who overrated the French forces, sent him a letter, advising 
him to capitulate. The letter was intercepted by Montcalm, but 
still forwarded to Monro. The obstmate old soldier, however, per- 
sisted in his defence, until most of his cannon were burst, and his 
ammunition expended. At length, in the month of August, he 
hung out a ftag of truce, and obtained honorable terms from an 
enemy who knew how to appreciate his valor. Montcalm demol- 
ished the fort, carried off all the artillery and munitions of war, 
with vessels employed in the navigation of the lake ; and having 
thus completed his destruction of the British defences on this fron- 
tier, returned once more in triumph with the spoils of victory, to 
hang up fresh trophies in the churches of Canada. 

Lord Loudoun, in the mean time, formed his junction with Ad- 
miral Holbourne at Halifax, and the troops were embarked with 
all diligence on board of the transports. Unfortunately, the French 
were again too quick for them. Admiral de Bois de la Mothe had 
arrived at Louisburg, with a large naval and land force ; it was 
ascertained that he had seventeen ships of the line, and three frig- 
ates, quietly moored in the harbor ; that the place was well forti- 
fied and supplied with provisions and ammunition, and garrisoned 
with six thousand regular troops, three thousand natives, and 
thirteen hundred Indians. 

Some hot-heads would have urged an attempt against all such 
array of force, but Lord Loudoun was aware of the probability of 
defeat, and the disgrace and riiin that it would bring upon British 
arms in America. He wisely, though ingloriously, returned to 
New York. Admiral Holbourne made a silly demonstration of his 
fleet off the harbor of Louisburg, approaching within two miles of 
the batteries, but retired on seeing the French admiral preparing 
to unmoor. He afterward returned with a reinforcement of four 



98 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

ships of the line ; cruised before Louisburg, endeavoring to draw 
the enemy to an engagement, which De la Mothe had the wisdom 
to decline ; was overtaken by a hurricane, in which one of his 
ships was lost, eleven were dismasted, others had to throw their 
guns overboard, and all returned in a shattered condition to Eng- 
land. Thus ended the northern campaign by land and sea, a sub- 
ject of great mortification to the nation, and ridicule and triumph 
to the enemy. 

During these unfortunate operations to the north, Washington 
was stationed at Winchester, with seven hundred men to defend a 
frontier of more than three hundred and fifty miles in extent. The 
capture and demohtion of Oswego by Montcalm had produced a dis- 
astrous effect. The whole country of the five nations was abandoned 
to the French. The frontiers of Pennsylvania, Maryland, and 
Virginia were harassed by repeated inroads of French and Indians, 
and Washington had the mortification to see the noble valley of the 
Shenandoah almost deserted by its inhabitants, a«nd fast relapsing 
into a wilderness. 

Under the able and intrepid administration of William Pitt, who 
had control of the British cabinet, an efibrt was made to retrieve 
the disgraces of the late American campaign, and to carry on the 
war with greater vigor. The instructions for a common fund were 
discontinued ; there was no more talk of taxation by Parliament. 
Lord Loudoun, from whom so much had been anticipated, had dis- 
appointed by his inactivity, and been relieved from a command in 
which he had attempted much and done so little. His friends 
alleged that his inactivity was owing to a want of unanimity and 
co-operation in the colonial governments, which paralyzed all his 
well-meant efforts. Franklin, it is probable, probed the matter 
with his usual sagacity when he characterized him as a man 
"entirely made up of indecision." — "Like St. George on the signs, 
he was always on horseback, but never rode on." 

On the return of his lordship to England, the general command 
in America devolved on Major-General Abercrombie, and the 
forces were divided into three detached bodies; one, under Major- 
General Amherst, was to operate in the north Avith the fleet under 
Boscawen, for the reduction of Louisburg and the island of Cape 
Breton ; another, under Abercrombie herself, was to proceed 
against Ticonderoga and Crown Point on Lake Champlain ; and 
the third, under Brigadier-General Forbes, who had the charge of 
the middle and southern colonies, was to undertake the reduction 
of Fort Duquesne. The colonial troops were to be supplied, like 
the regulars, with arms, ammunition, tents, and provisions, at the 
expense of government, but clothed and paid by the colonies; for 
which the king would recommend to Parliament a proper compen- 
sation. 

It was with the greatest satisfaction Washington saw his favorite 
measure at last adopted, the reduction of Fort Duquesne; and he 
resolved to continue in the service until that object was accom- 
phshed. 

He had the satisfaction of enjoying the fullest confidence of Gen- 



1758.I LETTER TO HALKET. 99 

eral Forbes, who knew too well the sound judgment and practical 
abiUty evinced by him in the unfortunate campaign of Braddock 
not to be desirous of availing himself of his counsels. 

Washington still was commander-in-chief of the Virginia troops, 
now augmented, by an act of the Assembly, to two regiments of 
one thousand men each ; one led by himself, the other by Colonel 
Byrd ; the whole destined to make a part of the army of General 
Forbes in the expedition against Fort Duquesne. 

Major-General Amherst, embarked with between ten and twelve 
thousand men, in the fleet of Admiral Boscawen, and set sail about 
the end of May, from Halifax, in Nova Scotia. Along with him 
went Brigadier-General James Wolfe, an officer young in years, 
but a veteran in mihtary experience, and destined to gain an almost 
romantic celebrity. He may almost be said to have been born in 
the camp, for he was the son of Major-General Wolfe, a veteran 
officer of merit, and when a lad had witnessed the battles of Det- 
tingen and Fontenoy. While a mere youth he had distinguished 
himself at the battle of Laffeldt, in the Netherlands ; and now, after 
having been eighteen years in the service, he was but thirty-one 
years of age. In America, however, he was to win his lasting 
laurels. 

On the 2d of June, the fleet arrived at the Bay of Gabarus, 
about seven miles to the west of Louisburg. The latter place was 
garrisoned by two thousand five hundred regulars and three hun- 
dred militia, and subsequently reinforced by upward of four 
hundred Canadians and Indians. In the harbor were six ships-of- 
the-line, and five frigates ; three of which were sunk across the 
mouth. For several days the troops were prevented from landing 
by boisterous weather, and a heavy surf. The French improved 
that time to strengthen a chain of forts along the shore, deepening 
trenches, and constructing batteries. 

On the 8th of June, preparations for landing were made before 
daybreak. The troops were embarked in boats in three divisions, 
under Brigadiers Wolfe, Whetmore, and Laurens. The landing 
was to be attempted west of the harbor, at a place feebly secured. 
Several frigates and sloops previously scoured the beach with 
their shot, after which Wolfe pulled for shore with his divisions ; 
the other two divisions distracting the attention of the enemy, by 
making a show of landing in other parts. The surf still ran high, 
the enemy opened a fire oi cannon and musketry from their bat- 
teries, many boats were upse£, many men slain, but Wolfe pushed 
forward, sprang into the water when the boats grounded, dashed 
through the surf with his men, stormed the enemy's breastworks 
and batteries, and drove them from the shore. Among the 
subalterns who stood by Wolfe on this occasion, was an Irish 
youth, twenty-one years of age, named Richard Montgomery, 
whom, for his gallantry, Wolfe promoted to a heutenancy, and 
who w^as destined, in after years, to gain an imperishable renown. 
The other divisions effected a landing after a severe conflict ; 
artillery and stores were brought on shore, and Louisburg was 
formally invested. 



loo LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

The weather continued boisterous ; the heavy cannon, and the 
various munitions necessary for a siege, were landed with difficulty, 
Amherst, moreover, was a cautious man, and made his approaches 
slowly, securing his camp by redoubts and epaulements. The 
Chevalier Drucour, who commanded at Louisburg, called in his 
outposts, and prepared for a desperate defence ; keeping up a 
heavy fire from his batteries, and from the ships in the harbor. 

Wolfe, with a strong detachment, surprised at night, and took 
possession of Light House Point, on the north-east side of the 
entrance to the harbor. Here he threw up batteries in addition to 
those already there, from which he was enabled greatly to annoy 
both town and shipping, as well as to aid Amherst in his slow, but 
Tegular and sure approaches. 

On the 2ist of July, the three largest of the enemy's ships were 
set on lire by a bomb-shell. On the night of the 25th two other of 
the ships were boarded, sword in hand, from boats of the squadron ; 
one being aground, was burned, the other was towed out of the 
harbor in triumph. The brave Drucour kept up the defence until 
all the ships were either taken or destroyed ; forty out of fifty-two 
pieces of cannon dismounted, and his works mere heaps of ruins. 
When driven to capitulate, he refused the terms proposed, as be- 
ing too severe, and, when threatened with a general assault, by 
sea and land, determined to abide it, rather than submit to what he 
considered a humiliation. The prayers and petitions of the inhabi- 
tants, however, overcame his obstinacy. The place was 
surrendered, and he and his garrison became prisoners of war. 
Captain Amherst, brother to the general, carried home the news to 
England, with eleven pair of colors, taken at Louisburg. There 
were rejoicings throughout the kingdom. The colors were borne in 
triumph through the streets of London, with a parade of horse and 
foot, kettle-drums and trumpets, and the thunder of artillery, and 
were put up as trophies in St. Paul's Cathedral. 

Boscawen, who was a member of Parliament, received a unani- 
mous vote of praise from the House of Commons, and the youthful 
Wolfe, who returned shortly after the victory to England, was 
hailed as the hero of the enterprise. 

The second expedition was that against the French forts on 
Lakes George and Champlain. At the beginning of July, Aber- 
crombie was encamped on the borders of Lake George, with 
between six and seven thousand, regulars, and upward of nine 
thousand provincials, from New England, New York, and New 
Jersey. Major Israel Putnam, of Connecticut, who had served on 
this lake, under Sir William Johnson, in the campaign in which 
Dieskau was defeated and slain, had been detached with a scouting 
party to reconnoiter the neighborhood. After his return and report, 
Abercrombie prepared to proceed against Ticonderago, situated on 
a tongue of land in Lake Champlain, at the mouth of the strait 
communicating with Lake George. 

On the 5th of July, the forces were embarked in one hundred 
and twenty-five whale-boats, and nine hundred bateaux, with the 
artillery on rafts. The vast flotilla proceeded slowly down the 



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I02 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

works. Never were rash orders more gallantly obeyed. The men 
rushed forward with fixed bayonets, and attempted to force their 
way through, or scramble over the abatis, under a sheeted fire of 
swivels and musketry. In the desperation of the moment, the 
officers even tried to cut their way through with their swords. 
Some even reached the parapet, where they were shot down. The 
breastwork was too high to be surmounted, and gave a secure 
covert to the enemy. Repeated assaults were made, and as often 
repelled, with dreadful havoc. The Iroquois warriors, who had 
arrived with Sir Wilham Johnson, took no part, it is said, in this 
fierce conflict, but stood aloof as unconcerned spectators of the 
bloody strife of white men. 

After four hours of desperate and fruitless fighting, Abercrombie, 
who had all the time remained aloof at the saw-mills, gave up the 
ill-judged attempt, and withdrew once more to the landing-place, 
with the loss of nearly two thousand in killed and wounded. Had 
not the vastly inferior force of Montcalm prevented him from 
sallying beyond his trenches, the retreat of the British might have 
been pushed to a headlong and disastrous flight. 

Abercrombie had still nearly four times the number of the 
enemy, with cannon, and all the means of carrying on a siege, 
with every prospect of success ; but the failure of this rash assault 
seems completely to have dismayed him. The next day he re- 
embarked all his troops, and returned across that lake where his 
disgraced banners had recently waved so proudly. 

While the general was planning fortifications on Lake George, 
Colonel Bradstreet obtained permission to carry into effect an ex- 
pedition which he had for some time meditated, and which had 
been a favored project with the lamented Howe. This was to 
reduce Fort Frontenac, the stronghold of the French on the north 
side of the entrance of Lake Ontario, commanding the mouth of 
the St. Lawrence. This post was a central point of Indian trade, 
whither the tribes resorted from all parts of a vast interior; some- 
times a distance of a thousand miles, to traffic away their peltries 
with the fur-traders. It was, moreover, a magazine for the more 
southern posts, among which was Fort Duquesne on the Ohio. 

Bradstreet was an officer of spirit. Pushing his way along the 
valley of the Mohawk and by the Oneida where he was joined by 
several warriors of the Six Nations, he arrived at Oswego in 
August, with nearly three thousand men ; the greater part of them 
provincial troops of New York and Massachusetts. Embarking 
at Oswego in open boats he crossed Lake Ontario, and landed 
within a mile of Frontenac. The fort mounted sixty guns, and 
several mortars, yet though a place of such importance, the garri- 
son consisted of merely one hundred and ten men, and a few 
Indians. These either fled, or surrendered at discretion. In the 
fort was an immense amount of merchandise and military stores ; 
part of the latter intended for the supply of Fort Duquesne. In 
the harbor were nine armed vessels, some of them carrying 
eighteen guns ; the whole of the enemy's shipping on the lake. 
Two of these Colonel Bradstreet freighted with part of the spoils of 



1 758.] SLO W OPERA TIONS. 103 

the fort, the others he destroyed ; then having dismantled the 
fortifications, and laid waste everything which he could not carry 
away, he recrossed the lake to Oswego, and returned with his 
troops to the army on Lake George. 

Operations went on slowly in that part of the year's campaign in 
which Washington was immediately engaged — the expedition 
against Fort Duquesne. Brigadier-General Forbes, who was com- 
mander-in-chief, was detained at Philadelphia by those delays and 
cross-purposes incident to military affairs in a new country. Colo- 
nel Bouquet, who was to command the advanced division, took his 
station, with a corps of regulars, at Raystown, in the centre of 
Pennsylvania. There slowly assembled troops from various parts. 
Three thousand Pennsylvanians, twelve hundred and fifty South 
Carolinians, and a few hundred men from elsewhere. 

Washington, in the meantime, gathered together his scattered 
regiment at Winchester, some from a distance of two hundred miles, 
and diligently disciplined his recruits. He had two Virginia regi- 
ments under him amounting, when complete, to about nineteen 
hundred men. Seven hundred Indian warriors, also, came lagging 
into his camp, lured by the prospect of a successful campaign. 

The president of the council had given Washington a discretion- 
ary power in the present juncture to order out militia for the pur- 
pose of garrisoning the fort in the absence of the regular troops. 
Washington exercised the power with extreme reluctance. He 
considered it, he said, an affair of too important and delicate a na- 
ture for him to manage, and apprehended the discontent it might 
occasion. In fact, his sympathies were always with the husband- 
men and the laborers of the soil, and he deplored the evils imposed 
upon them by arbitrary drafts for military service ; a scruple not 
often indulged by youthful commanders. 

The force thus assembling was in want of arms, tents, field-equip- 
age, and almost every requisite. W^ashington had made repeated 
representations, by letter, of the destitute state of the Virginia 
troops, but without avail ; he was now ordered by Sir John St. 
Clair, the quartermaster-general of the forces, under General 
Forbes, to repair to Williamsburg, and lay the state of the case be- 
fore the council. He set off promptly on horseback, attended by 
Bishop, the well-trained military ser\ant, who had served the late 
General Braddock. It proved an eventful journey, though not in 
a military point of view. In crossing a ferry of the Pamunkey, a 
branch of York River, he fell in company with a Mr. Chamber- 
layne, who lived in the neighborhood, and who, in the spirit of 
Virginian hospitality, claimed him as a guest. It was with diffi- 
culty Washington could be prevailed on to halt for dinner, so im- 
patient was he to arrive at WiUiamsburg, and accomplish his 
mission. 

Among the guests at Mr. Chamberlayne's was a young and 
blooming widow, Mrs. Martha Custis, daughter of Mr. John Dan- 
dridge, both patrician names in the province. Her husband, John 
Parke Custis, had been dead about three years, leaving her with 
two young children, and a large fortune. She is represented as be- 



I04 LIFE OF WASHINGTON 

ing rather below the middle size, but extremely well shaped, with an 
agreeable countenance, dark hazel eyes and hair, and those frank, 
engaging manners so captivating in Southern women. We are not 
informed whether Washington had met with her before ; probably 
not during her widowhood, as during that time he had been almost 
continually on the frontier. We have shown that, with all his 
gravity and reserve, he was quickly susceptible to female charms ; 
and they may have had a greater effect upon him when thus casu- 
ally encountered in fleeting moments snatched from the cares and 
perplexities and rude scenes of frontier warfare. At any rate, his 
heart appears to have been taken by surprise. 

The dinner, which in those days was an earlier meal than at 
present, seemed all too short. The afternoon passed away like a 
dream. Bishop was punctual to the orders he had received on 
halting ; the horses pawed at the door; but for once Washington 
loitered in the path of duty. The horses were countennanded, and 
it was not until the next morning that he was again in the saddle, 
spurring for Williamsburg. Happily the Wliite House, the residence 
of Mrs. Custis, was in New Kent County, at no great distance from 
that city, so that he had opportunities of visiting her in the intervals 
of business. His time for courtship, however, was brief. Military 
duties called him back almost immediately to Wmchester ; but he 
feared, should he leave the matter in suspense, some more enter- 
prising rival might supplant him during his absence, as in the case 
of Miss PhiHpse, at New York. He improved, therefore, his brief 
opportunity to the utmost. The blooming widow had many suitors, 
but Washington was graced with that renown so ennobling in the 
eyes of women. In a word, before they separated, they had mu- 
tually plighted their faith, and the marriage was to take place as 
soon as the campaign against Fort Uuquesne was at an end. 

Before returning to Winchester, Washington was obliged to hold 
conferences with Sir John St. Clair and Colonel Bouquet, at an in- 
termediate rendezvous, to give them information respecting the 
frontiers, and arrange about the marching of his troops. His con- 
stant word to them was forward ! forward ! For the precious time 
for action was slipping away, and he feared their Indian allies, so 
important to their security while on the march, might, with their 
usual fickleness, lose patience, and return home. 

On arriving at Winchester, he found his troops restless and dis- 
contented from prolonged inaction. The weather was oppressively 
warm. He now conceived the idea of equipping them in the light 
Indian hunting garb, and even of adopting it himself. Two com- 
panies were accordingly equipped in this style, and sent under the 
command of Major Lewis to head-quarters. " It is an unbecoming 
dress, I own for an officer," writes Washington, " but convenience 
rather than a show, I think, should be consulted. The reduction 
battle of horses alone would be sufficient to recommend it; for 
is nothing more certain than that less baggage would be required." 

The experiment was successful. "The dress takes very well 
here," writes Colonel Bouquet; " and, thank God, we see nothing 
but shirts and blankets. * * ■* Their dress should be one pat- 



I758.J A NEW ROAD TO FORT DUQUESNE. 105 

tern for this expedition." Such was probably the origin of the 
American rifle dress, afterward so much worn in warfare, and 
modeled on the Indian costume. 

The army was now annoyed by scouting parties of Indians hover- 
ing about the neighborhood. Expresses passing between the posts 
were fired upon; a wagoner was shot down. Washington sent out 
counter-parties of Cherokees. Colonel Bouquet required that each 
party should be accompanied by an officer and a number of white 
men. Washington complied with the order, though he considered 
them an incumbrance rather than an advantage. 

On the other hand, he earnestly discountenanced a proposition of 
Colonel Bouquet, to make an irruption into the enemy's country 
with a strong party of regulars. Such a detachment, he observed, 
could not be sent without a cumbersome train of supplies, which 
would discover it to the enemy, who must at that time be collecting 
his whole force at Fort Duquesne ; the enterprise, therefore would 
be likely to terminate in a miscarriage, if not in the destruction of 
the party. We shall see that his opinion was oracular. 

As Washington intended to retire from military life at the close 
of this campaign, he had proposed himself to the electors of Fred- 
erick County as their representative in the House of Burgesses. The 
election was coming on at Winchester ; his friends pressed him to 
attend it, and Colonel Bouquet gave him leave of absence ; but he 
declined to absent himself from his post for the promotion of his 
political interests. There were three competitors in the field, yet 
so high was the public opinion of his merit, that, though Winches- 
ter had been his head-quarters for two or three years past, and he 
had occasionally enforced martial law with a rigorous hand, he was 
elected by a large majority. The election was carried on some- 
what in the English style. There was much eating and drinking at 
the expense of the candidate. Washington appeared on the hust- 
ings by proxy, and his representative was chaired about the town 
with enthusiastic applause and huzzaing for Colonel Washington. 

On the 2 1st of July arrived tidings of the brilliant success of 
that part of the scheme of the year's campaign conducted by Gen- 
eral Amherst and Admiral Boscawen, who had reduced the strong 
town of Louisburg and gained possession of the Island of Cape 
Breton. This intelligence increased Washington's impatience at 
the delays of the expedition with which he was connected. He 
wished to rival these successes by a brilliant blow in the south. 
Perhaps a desire for personal distinction in the eyes of the lady of 
his choice may have been at the bottom of this impatience ; for 
we are told that he kept up a constant correspondence with her 
throughout the campaign. 

Understanding that the commander-in-chief had some thoughts of 
throwing a body of light troops in the advance, he wrote to Colonel 
Bouquet, earnestly soliciting his influence to have himself and his 
Virginia regiment included in the detachment. " If any argument 
is needed to obtain this favor," said he, "I hope, without vanity I 
may be allowed to say, that from long intimacy with these woods, 
and frequent scouting in them, my men are at least as well 



io6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

acquainted with all the passes and difficulties as any troops that 
will be employed." 

He soon learned to his surprise, however, that the road to which 
his men were accustomed, and which had been worked by Brad- 
dock's troops in his campaign, was not to be taken in the present 
expedition, but a new one opened through the heart of Pennsylva- 
nia, from Raystown to Fort Duquesne, on the track generally 
taken by the northern traders. He instantly commenced long and 
repeated remonstrances on the subject ; representing that Brad- 
dock's road, from recent examination, only needed partial repairs, 
and showing by clear calculation that any army could reach Fort 
Duquesne by that route in thirty-four days, so that the whole cam- 
paign might be effected by the middle of October ; whereas the 
extreme labor of opening a new road across mountains, swamps, 
and through a densely wooded country, would detain them so late, 
that the season would be over before they could reach the scene 
of action. His representations were of no avail. The officers of 
the regular service had received a fearful idea of Braddock's road 
from his own dispatches, wherein he had described it as lying 
"across mountains and rocks of an excessive height, vastly steep, 
and divided by torrents and rivers," whereas the Pennsylvania 
traders, who were anxious for the opening of the new road through 
their province, described the country through which it would pass 
as less difficult, and its streams less subject to inundation ; above 
all, it was a direct hne, and fifty miles nearer. This route, there- 
fore, to the great regret of Washington and the indignation of the 
Virginia Assembly, was definitely adopted, and sixteen hundred 
men were immediately thrown in the advance from Raystown to 
work upon it. 

The first of September found Washington still encamped at Fort 
Cumberland, his troops sickly and dispirited, and the brilliant expe- 
dition which he had anticipated, dwindling down into a tedious 
operation of road-making. In the meantime, his scouts brought 
him word that the whole force at Fort Duquesne on the 13th of 
August, Indians included, did not exceed eight hundred men ; had 
an early campaign been pressed forward, as he recommended, the 
place by this time would have been captured. At length, in the 
month of September, he received orders from General Forbes to 
join him with his troops at Raystown, where he had just arrived, 
having been detained by severe illness. He was received by the 
general with the highest marks of respect. On all occasions, both 
in private and at councils of war, that commander treated his opin- 
ions with the greatest deference. He, moreover, adopted a plan 
drawn out by Washington for the march of the army ; and an 
order of battle which still exists, furnishing a proof of his skill in 
frontier warfare. 

It was now the middle of September ; yet the great body of men 
engaged in opening the new mihtary road, after incredible toil, had 
not advanced above forty-five miles, to a place called Loyal Han- 
nan, a little beyond Laurel Hill. Colonel Bouquet, who com- 
manded the division of nearly two thousand men sent forward to 



1758.] FOOLHARDINESS OF GRANT. 107 

open this road, had halted at Loyal Hannan to establish a military 
post and deposit. 

He was upward of fifty miles from Fort Duquesne, and was 
tempted to adopt the measure, so strongly discountenanced by 
Washington, of sending a party on a foray into the enemy's 
country. He accordingly detached Major Grant with eight hun- 
dred picked men, some of them Highlanders, others, in Indian 
garb, the part of Washington's Virginian regiment sent forward by 
him from Cumberland under command of Major Lewis. 

The instructions given to Major Grant were merely to reconnoiter 
the country in the neighborhood of Fort Duquesne, and ascertain 
the strength and position of the enemy. Arriving at night in the 
neighborhood of the fort, he posted his men on a hill, and sent 
out a party of observation, who set fire to a log house near the 
walls and returned to the encampment. As if this were not suffi- 
cient to put the enemy on the alert, he ordered the reveille to be 
beaten in the morning in several places ; then, posting Major 
Lewis with his provincial troops at a distance in the rear to pro- 
tect the baggage, he marshaled his regulars in battle array, and 
sent an engineer, with a covering party, to take a plan of the 
works in full view of the garrison. 

Not a gun was fired by the fort ; the silence which was main- 
tained was mistaken for fear, and increased the arrogance and blind 
security of the British commander. At length, when he was 
thrown off his guard, there was a sudden sally of the garrison, and 
an attack on the flanks by Indians hid in ambush. A scene now 
occurred similar to that at the defeat of Braddock. The British 
officers marshaled their men according to European tactics, and 
the Highlanders for some time stood their ground bravely; but the 
destructive fire and horrid yells of the Indians soon produced panic 
and confusion. Major Lewis, at the first noise of the attack, left 
Captain BulHtt, with fifty Virginians, to guard the baggage, and 
hastened with the main part of his men to the scene of action. 
The contest was kept up for some time, but the confusion was 
irretrievable. The Indians sallied from their concealment, and 
attacked with the tomahawk and scalping-knife. Lewis fought 
hand to hand with an Indian brave, whom he laid dead at his feet, 
but was surrounded by others, and only saved his hfe by surren- 
dering himself to a French officer. Major Grant surrendered him- 
self in like manner. The whole detachment was put to the rout 
with dreadful carnage. 

Captain Bullitt rallied several of the fugitives, and prepared to 
make a forlorn stand, as the only charice where the enemy was 
overwhelming and merciless. Dispatching the most valuable bag- 
gage with the strongest horses, he made a barricade with the bag- 
gage wagons, behind which he posted his men, giving them orders 
how they were to act. All this was the thought and the work 
almost of a moment, for the savages, having finished the havoc 
and plunder of the field of battle, were hastening in pursuit of the 
fugitives. Bullitt suffered them to come near, when, on a con- 
certed signal, a destructive fire opened from behind the baggage 



io8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

wagons. They were checked for a time ; but were again pressing 
forward in greater numbers, when BuUitt and his men held out 
the signal of capitulation, and advanced as if to surrender. When 
within eight yards of the enemy, they suddenly leveled their 
arms, poured a most effective volley, and then charged with the 
bayonet. The Indians fled in dismay, and Bullitt took advantage 
of this check to retreat with all speed, collecting the wounded and 
the scattered fugitives as he advanced. The routed detachment 
came back in fragments to Colonel Bouquet's camp at Loyal Han- 
nan, with the loss of twenty-one officers and two hundred and 
seventy-three privates killed and taken. The Highlanders and the 
Virginians were those that fought the best and suffered the most in 
this bloody battle. Washington's regiment lost six officers and 
sixty-two privates. 

Washington, who was at Raystown when the disastrous news 
arrived, was pubhcly complimented by General Forbes, on the 
gallant conduct of his Virginian troops, and BuUitt' s behavior was 
"a matter of great admiration." The latter was soon after re- 
warded with a major's commission. 

As a further mark of the high opinion now entertained of provin- 
cial troops for frontier service, Washington was given the com- 
mand of a division, partly composed of his own men, to keep in 
the advance of the main body, clear the roads, throw out scouting 
parties, and repel Indian attacks. 

It was the 5th of November before the whole army assembled at 
Loyal Hannan. Winter was now at hand, and upward of fifty 
miles of wilderness were yet to be traversed, by a road not yet 
formed, before they could reach Fort Duquesne. Again, Wash- 
ington's predictions seemed likely to be verified, and the expedi- 
tion to be defeated by delay ; for in a council of war it was deter- 
mined to be impracticable to advance further with the army that 
season. Three prisoners, however, M'ho were brought in, gave such 
an account of the weak state of the garrison at Fort Duquesne, its 
want of provisions, and the defection of the Indians, that it was 
determined to push forward. The march was accordingly resumed 
but without tents or baggage, and with only a light train of artil- 
lery. 

Washington still kept the advance. After leaving Loyal Han- 
nan, the road presented traces of the late defeat of Grant; being 
strewed with human bones, the sad rehcs of fugitives cut down by 
the Indians, or of wounded soldiers who had died on the retreat; 
they lay mouldering in various stages of decay, mingled with the 
bones of horses and of oxen. As they approached Fort Duquesne 
these mementoes of former disasters became more frequent, and 
the bones of those massacred in the defeat of Braddock, still lay 
scattered about the battle-field, whitening in the sun. 

At length the army arrived in sight of Fort Duquesne, advanc- 
ing with great precaution, and expecting a vigorous defence ; but 
that formidable fortress, the terror and scourge of the frontier, and 
the object of such warlike enterprise, fell without a blow. The 
recent successes of the Enghsh forces in Canada, particularly the 



1758.] FORT DUQUESNE ABANDONED. 109 

capture and destruction of Fort Frontenac, had left the garrison 
without hope of reinforcements and supplies. The whole force, 
at the time, did not exceed five hundred men, and the provisions 
were nearly exhausted. The commander, therefore, waited only 
until the English amiy was within one day's march, when he 
embarked his troops at night in bateaux, blew up his magazines, set 
fire to the fort, and retreated down the Ohio, by the light of the 
flames. On the 25th of November, Washington, with the 
advanced guard, marched in and planted the British flag on the 
yet smoking ruins. 

One of the first offices of the army was to collect and bur>^ in 
one common tomb, the bones of their fellow-soldiers who had 
fallen in the battles of Braddock and Grant In this pious duty it 
is said every one joined, from the general down to the private sol- 
dier ; and some veterans assisted, with heavy hearts and frequent 
ejaculations of poignant feeling, who had been present in the scenes 
of defeat and carnage. 

The ruins of the fortress were now put in a defensible state, and 
garrisoned by two hundred men from Washington's regiment; the 
name was changed to that of Fort Pitt, in honor of the illustrious 
British minister, whose measures had given vigor and effect to this 
year's campaign; it has since been modified into Pittsburg, and 
designates one of the most busy and populous cities of the interior. 

The reduction of Fort Duquesne terminated, as Washington had 
forseen, the troubles and dangers of the southern frontier. The 
French domination of the Ohio was at an end ; the Indians, as 
usual, paid homage to the conquering power, and a treaty of peace 
was concluded with all the tribes between the Ohio and the lakes. 

With this campaign ended, for the present, the military career 
of Washington. His great object was attained, the restoration of 
quiet and security to his native province ; and, having abandoned 
all hope of attaining rank in the regular army, and his health being 
much impaired, he gave up his commission at the close of the 
year, and retired from the service, followed by the applause of his 
fellow-soldiers, and the gratitude and admiration of all his country- 
men. 

His marriage with Mrs. Custis took place shortly after his return. 
It was celebrated on the 6th of January, 1759, at the White House, 
the residence of the bride, in the good old hospitable style of Vir- 
ginia, amid a joyous assemblage of relatives and friends. 



CHAPTER V. 



WOLFE AT QUEBEC — SURRENDER OF CANADA — WASHINGTON S 

RURAL LIFE. 

Before following Washington into the retirement of domestic 
life, we think it proper to notice the events which closed the great 
struggle between England and France for empire in America. In 
that struggle he had first become practiced in arms, and schooled 



no LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

in the ways of the world ; and its results will be found connected 
with the history of his later years. 

General Abercrombie had been superseded as commander-in- 
chief of the forces in America by Major-General Amherst, who 
had gained great favor by the reduction of Louisburg. According 
to the plan of operations for 1759, General Wolfe, who had risen 
to fame by his gallant conduct in the same aifair, was to ascend 
the St. Lawrence in a fleet of ships of war, with eight thousand 
men, as soon as the river should be free from ice, and lay siege to 
Quebec, the capital of Canada. General Amherst, in the mean 
time was to advance, as Abercrombie had done, by Lake George, 
against Ticonderoga and Crown Point ; reduce those forts, cross 
Lake Champlain, push on to the St. Lawrence, and cooperate 
with Wolfe. 

A third expedition under Brigadier-General Prideaux, aided by 
Sir Wilham Johnson and his Indian warriors, was to attack Fort 
Niagara, which controlled the whole country of the Six Nations, 
and commanded the navigation of the great lakes, and the inter- 
course between Canada and Louisiana. Having reduced this fort, 
he was to traverse Lake Ontario, descend the St. Lawrence, capture 
Montreal, and join his forces with those of Amherst. 

The last mentioned expedition was the first executed. General 
Prideaux embarked at Oswego on the first of July, with a large 
body of troops, regulars and provincials — the latter partly from 
New York. He was accompanied by Sir William Johnson, and 
his Indian braves of the Mohawk. Landing at an inlet of Lake 
Ontario, within a few miles of Fort Niagara, he advanced, without 
being opposed, and proceeded to invest it. The garrison, six hun- 
dred strong, made a resolute defence. The siege was carried on 
by regular approaches, but pressed with vigor. On the 20th of 
July, Prideaux, in visiting his trenches, was killed by the bursting 
of a cohorn. Informed by express of this misfortune. General 
Amherst detached from the main army Brigadier-General Gage, the 
officer who had led Braddock's advance to take the command. 

In the meantime the siege had been conducted by Sir William 
Johnson with courage and sagacity. He was .destitute of military 
science, but had a natural aptness for warfare, especially for the 
rough kind carried on in the wilderness. Being informed by his 
scouts that twelve hundred regular troops, drawn from Detroit, 
Venango, and Presque Isle, and led by D'Aubry, with a number 
of Indian auxiliaries, were hastening to the rescue, he detached a 
force of grenadiers and light infantry, with some of his Mohawk 
warriors, to intercept them. They came in sight of each other on 
the road, between Niagara Falls and the fort, within the thunder- 
ing sound of the one, and the distant view of the other. Johnson's 
"braves" advanced to have a parley with the hostile redskins. 
The latter received them Avith a war-whoop, and Frenchman and 
savage made an impetuous onset. Johnson's regulars and provin- 
cials stood their ground firmly, while his red warriors fell on the 
flanks of the enemy. 

After a sharp conflict, the French were broken, routed and pur- 



I759-] WOLF DELO W QUEBEC. 1 1 1 

sued through the woods, with great carnage. Among the prisoners 
taken were seventeen officers. The next day Sir William Johnson 
sent a trumpet summoning the garrison to surrender, to spare the 
effusion of blood, and prevent outrages by the Indians. They had 
no alternative ; were pennitted to march out with the honors of 
war, and were protected by Sir William from his Indian allies. 
Thus was secured the key to the communication between Lakes 
Ontario and Erie, and to the vast interior region connected with 
them. The blow alarmed the French for the safety of Montreal, 
and De Levi, the second in command of their Canadian forces, 
hastened up from before Quebec, and took post at the fort of 
Oswegatchie (now Ogdensburg), to defend the passes of the St. 
Lawrence. 

In the month of July, General Amherst embarked with nearly 
twelve thousand men, at the upper part of Lake George, and pro- 
ceeded down it, as Abercrombie had done in the preceding year, in 
a vast fleet of whale-boats, bateaux, and rafts, and all the glitter 
and parade of war. On the 22d, the army embarked at the lower 
part of the lake and advanced toward Ticonderoga. After a slight 
skirmish with the advanced guard, they secured the old post at the 
saw -mill. 

Montcalm was no longer in the fort ; he was absent for the pro- 
tection of Quebec. The garrison did not exceed four hundred 
men. Bourlamarque, a brave officer, who commanded, at first 
seemed disposed to make defence ; but, against such overwhelming 
force, it would have been madness. Dismantling the fortifications, 
therefore, he abandoned them, as he did hkewise those at Crown 
Point, and retreated down the lake, to assemble forces, and make 
a stand at the Isle Aux Noix, for the protection of Montreal and the 
province. 

Instead of following him up, and hastening to cooperate with 
Wolfe, General Amherst proceeded to repair the works at Ticonde- 
roga, and erect a new fort at Crown Point, though neither were in 
present danger of being attacked, nor would be of use if Canada 
were conquered. Amherst, however, was one of those cautious 
men, who, in seeking to be sure, are apt to be fatally slow. His 
delay enabled the enemy to rally their forces at Isle Aux Noix, and 
call in Canadian reinforcements, while it deprived Wolfe of that co- 
operation which was most essential to the general success of the 
campaign. 

Wolfe with his eight thousand men, ascended the St. Lawrence 
in the fleet, in the month of June. With him came Brigadiers 
Monckton, Townshend and Murray, youthful and brave like him- 
self, and like himself, already schooled in arms. Monckton, it 
will be recollected, had signalized himself, when a colonel, in the 
expedition in 1755, in which the French were driven from Nova 
Scotia. The grenadiers of the army were commanded by Colonel 
Guy Carleton, and part of the light infantry by Lieutenant-Colonel 
WYlIiam Howe, both destined to celebrity in after years, in the an- 
nals of the American Revolution. Colonel Howe was brother of 



112 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the gallant Lord Howe, whose fall in the preceding year was so 

generally lamented. 

About the end of June, the troops debarked on the large, popu- 
lous and well-cultivated Isle of Orleans, a little below Quebec, and 
encamped in its fertile fields. Quebec, the citadel of Canada, was 
strong by nature. It was built round the point of a rocky promon- 
tory, and flanked by precipices. The crystal current of the St. 
Lawrence swept by it on the right, and the river St. Charles flowed 
along on the left, before mingling with that mighty stream. The 
place was tolerably fortified, but art had not yet rendered it, as at 
the present day, impregnable. 

Montcalm commanded the post. His troops were more numer- 
ous than the assailants ; but the greater part were Canadians, 
many of them inhabitants of Quebec ; and he had a host of 
savages. His forces were drawn out along the northern shore be- 
low the city, from the river St. Charles to the Falls of Montmon- 
rency, and their posidon was secured by deep intrenchments. 

The night after the debarkation of Wolfe's troops a furious storm 
caused great damage to the transports, and sank some of the 
small craft. While it was still raging, a number of fire-ships, sent 
to destroy the fleet, came driving down. They were boarded in- 
trepidly by the Bridsh seamen, and towed out of the way of doing 
harm. After much resistance, Wolfe established batteries at the 
west point of the Isle of Orleans, and at Point Levi, on the right 
(or south) bank of the St. Lawrence, within cannon range of the 
city. Colonel Guy Carleton, commander at the former battery ; 
Brigadier Monckton at the latter. From Point Levi bomb-shells 
and red-hot shot were discharged ; many houses were set on fire 
in the upper town, the lower town was reduced to rubbish ; the 
main fort, however, remained unharmed. 

Anxious for a decisive action, W^olfe, on the 9th day of July, 
crossed over in boats from the Isle of Orleans, to the north bank 
of the St. Lawrence, and encamped below the Montmorency. It 
was an ill-judged position, for there was still that tumultuous 
stream, with its rocky banks, between him and the camp of Mont- 
calm ; but the ground he had chosen was higher than that occu- 
pied by the latter, and the Montmorency had a ford below the 
falls, passable at low tide. Another ford was discovered, three 
miles within land, but the banks were steep, and shagged with 
forest. At both fords the vigilant Montcalm had thrown up breast- 
works, and posted troops. 

On the 1 8th of July, Wolfe made a reconnoitering expedition up 
the river, with two armed sloops, and two transports with troops. 
He passed Quebec unharmed, and carefully noted the shores above 
it. Rugged cliffs rose almost from the water's edge. Above them 
he was told, was an extent of level ground, called the Plains of 
Abraham, by which the upper town might be approached on its 
weakest side ; but how was that plain to be attained, when the 
cliffs, for the most part, were inaccessible, and every practicable 
place fortified? 

He returned to Montmorency disappointed, and resolved to at- 



1 759. J THE FALLS OF MONTMORENCY. 1 1 3 

tack Montcalm in his camp, however difficult to be approached, 
and however strongly posted. Townshend and Murray, with their 
brigades were to cross the Montmorency at low tide, below the 
falls, and storm the redoubt thrown up in front of the ford. Monck- 
ton, at the same time, was to cross, with part of his brigade, in 
boats from Point Levi. 

As usual, in complicated orders, part were misunderstood, or neg- 
lected, and confusion was the consequence. Many of the boats 
from Point Levi ran aground on a shallow in the river, where they 
were exposed to a severe fire of shot and shells. Wolfe, was on 
the shore, directing everything, endeavored to stop his impatient 
troops until the boats could be got afloat, and the men landed. 
Thirteen companies of grenadiers, and two hundred provincials 
were the first to land. Without waiting for Brigadier Monckton 
and his regiments ; without waiting for the cooperation of the 
troops under Townshend ; without waiting even to be drawn up in 
form, the grenadiers rushed impetuously toward the enemy's in- 
trenchments. A sheeted fire mowed them down, and drove them 
to take shelter behind the redoubt, near the ford, which the enemy 
had abandoned. Here they remained, unable to form under the 
gaUing fire to which they were exposed, whenever they ventured 
from their covert. Monckton' s brigade at length was landed, 
drawn up in order, and advanced, to their relief, driving back the 
enemy. Thus protected, the grenadiers retreated as precipitately 
as they had advanced, leaving many of their comrades wounded 
on the field, who were massacred and scalped in their sight, by the 
savages. The delay thus caused was fatal to the enterprise. The 
day was advanced ; the weather became stormy ; the tide began to 
make ; at a later hour, retreat, in case of a second repulse, would 
be impossible. Wolfe, therefore, gave up the attack, and withdrew 
across the river, having lost upward of four hundred men through 
this headlong impetuosity of the grenadiers. The two vessels which 
had been run aground, were set on fire, lest they should fall into 
the hands of the enemy. 

Brigadier Murray was now detached with twelve hundred men, 
in transports, to ascend above the town, and cooperate with Rear- 
Admiral Holmes, in destroying the enemy's shipping, and making 
descents upon the north shore. The shipping were safe from 
attack ; some stores and ammunition were destroyed ; some pris- 
oners taken, and Murray returned with the news of the capture of 
Fort Niagara, Ticonderoga, and Crown Point, and that Amherst 
was preparing to attack the Isle Aux Noix. 

Wolfe, of a delicate constitution and sensitive nature, had 
been deeply mortified by the severe check sustained at the 
Falls of Montmorency, fancying himself disgraced ; and these 
successes of his fellow-commanders in other parts increased 
his self-upbraiding. The difficulties multiplying around him, 
and the delay of General Amherst in hastening to his 
aid, preyed incessantly on his spirits ; he was dejected 
even to despondency, and declared he would never return 
without success, to be exposed, like other unfortunate com- 



114 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

manders, to the sneers and reproaches. The agitation of his mind, 
and his acute sensibility, brought on a fever, which for some time 
incapacitated him from taking the field. 

In the midst of his illness he called a council of war, in which 
the whole plan of operations was altered. It was determined to 
convey the troops above the town, and endeavor to make a diver- 
sion in that direction, or draw Montcalm into the open field. 

The brief Canadian summer was over ; they were in the month 
of September. The camp at Montmorency was broken up. The 
troops were transported to Point Levi, leaving a sufficient number 
to man the batteries on the Isle of Orleans. On the 
fifth and sixth of September the embarkation took place above 
Point Levi, in transports which had been sent up for the purpose. 
Montcalm detached De Bougainville with fifteen hundred men to 
keep along the north shore above the town, watch the move- 
ments of the squadron, and prevent a landing. To deceive him, 
Admiral Holmes moved with the ships of war three leagues beyond 
the place where the landing was to be attempted. He was to drop 
down, however, in the night, and protect the landing. Cook, the 
future discoverer, also, was employed with others to sound the 
river and place buoys opposite the camp of Montcalm, as if an 
attack were meditated in that quarter. 

Wolfe was still suffering under the effects of his late fever. " My 
constitution," writes he to a friend, " is entirely ruined, without the 
consolation of having done any considerable service to the state, 
and without any prospect of it." Still he was unremitteing in his 
exertions, seeking to wipe out the fancied disgrace incurred at the 
Falls of Montmorency. It wasin this mood he is said to have com- 
posed and sung at his evening mess that Httle campaigning song 
still linked with his name : 

Why, soldiers, why 
Should we be melancholy, boys ? 
Why, soldiers, why ? 
Whose business 'tis to die! 

Even when embarked in his midnight enterprise, the presentiment 
of death seems to have cast its shadow over him. The boats 
floated down silently with the current, he recited, in low and 
touching tones, Gray's Elegy in a country churchyard, then just 
pubhshed. One stanza may especially have accorded with his 
melancholy mood. 

'The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, 
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, 

Await alike the inevitable hour. 
The paths of glory lead but to the grave." 

"Now, gentlemen," said he, when he had finished, "I would 
rather be the author of that poem than take Quebec." 

The descent was made in flat-bottomed boats, past midnight, on 
the 13th of September. They dropped down with the swift current. 
" Qui va la ? " (who goes there ? ) cried a sentinel from the shore. 



1759.] WOLFE BEFORE THE BATTLE. 115 

** La France,'" replied a captain in the first boat, who understood 
the French language. 

'* A quel regiment?'" was the demand. "De la Reine'' (the 
queen's), replied the captain, knowing that regiment was in De 
Bougainville's detachment. Fortunately, a convoy of provisions 
was expected down from De Bougainville's which the sentinel sup- 
posed this to be. "Passe, " cried he, and the boats glided on 
without further challenge. The landing took place in a cove near 
Cape Diamond, which still bears Wolfe's name. He had marked 
it in reconnoitering, and saw that a cragged path straggled up from 
it to the Heights of Abraham, which might be climbed, though 
with difficulty, and that it appeared to be slightly guarded at top. 
Wolfe was among the first that landed and ascended up the steep 
and narrow path, where not more than two could go abreast, and 
which had been broken up by cross ditches. Colonel Howe, at 
the same time, with the light infantry and Highlanders, scrambled 
up the woody precipices, helping themselves by the roots and 
branches putting to flight a sergeant's guard posted at the sum- 
mit. Wolfe drew up the men in order as they mounted ; and by 
the break of day found himself in possession of the fateful Plains of 
Abraham. 

Montcalm was thunderstruck when word was brought to him in 
his camp that the English were on the heights threatening the 
weakest part of the town. Abandoning his intrenchments, he 
hastened across the river St. Charles and ascended the heights, 
which slope up gradually from its banks. His force was equal in 
number to that of the English, but a great part was made up of 
colony troops and savages. When he saw the formidable host of 
regulars he had to contend with, he sent off swift messengers to 
summon De Bougainville with his detachment to his aid ; and De 
Vaudreuil to reinforce him with fifteen hundred men from the 
camp. In the mean time he prepared to flank the left of the Eng- 
lish hne and force them to the opposite precipices. Wolfe saw his 
aim, and sent Brigadier Townshend to counteract him with a regi- 
ment which was formed en potence, and supported by two battal- 
ions, presenting on the left a double front. 

The French, in their haste, thinking they were to repel a mere 
scouting party, had brought but three light field-pieces with them ; 
the English had but a single gun, which the sailors had dragged 
up the heights. With these they cannonaded each other for a 
time, Montcalm still waiting for the aid he had summoned. At 
length, about nine o'clock, losing all patience, he led on his disci- 
plined troops to a close conflict with small-arms, the Indians to 
support them by a galhng fire from thickets and corn-fields. The 
French advanced gallantly, but irregularly ; firing rapidly, but with 
little effect. The English reserved their fire until their assailants 
were within forty yards, and, then dehvered it in deadly vol- 
leys. They suffered, however, from the lurking savages, who 
singled out the officers. Wolfe, who was in front of the line, a 
conspicious mark, was wounded by a ball in the wrist. He bound 
his handkerchief round the wound and led on the grenadiers, with 



ii6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

fixed bayonets, to charge the foe, who began to waver. Another 
ball struck him in the breast. He felt the wound to be mortal, and 
feared his fall might dishearten the troops. Leaning on a heuten- 
ant for support; " Let not my brave fellows see me drop," said he 
faintly. He was borne off to the rear ; water was brought to quench 
his thirst, and he was asked if he would have a surgeon. " It is 
needless," he repHed ; " it is all over with me." He desired those 
about him to lay him down. The lieutenant seated himself on the 
ground, and supported him in his arms. "They run! they run! 
see how they run!" cried one of the attendants. "Who run?" 
demanded Wolfe, earnestly, like one aroused from sleep. "The 
enemy, sir; they give way everywhere." The spirit of the 
expiring hero flashed up. " Go, one of you, my lads, to Colonel 
Burton; tell him to march Webb's regiment with all speed down 
to Charles River, to cut off the retreat by the bridge. " Then 
turning on his side ; " Now, God be praised I will die in peace ! " 
said he, and expired, — soothed in his last moments by the idea 
that victory would obliterate the imagined disgrace at Mont- 
morency. 

Brigadier Muiray had indeed broken the center of the enemy, 
and the Highlanders were making deadly havoc with their clay- 
mores, driving the French into the town or down to their works on 
the river St. Charles. Monckton, the first brigadier, was disabled 
by a wound in the lungs, and the command devolved on Town- 
shend, who hastened to re-form the troops of the center, disordered 
in pursuing the enemy. By this time De Bougainville appeared 
at a distance in the rear, advancing with two thousand fresh troops, 
but he arrived to late to retrieve the day. The gallant Montcalm 
had received his death-wound near St. John's Gate, while en- 
deavoring to rally his flying troops, and had been borne into the 
town. 

Townshend advanced with a force to receive De Bougainville ; 
but the latter avoided a combat, and retired into woods and 
swamps, where it was not thought prudent to follow him. The 
English had obtained a complete victory ; slain about five hundred 
of the enemy ; taken above a thousand prisoners, and among them 
several officers ; and had a strong position on the Plains of 
Abraham, which they hastened to fortify with redoubts and 
artillery, drawn up the heights. 

The brave Montcalm wrote a letter to General Townshend, 
recommending the prisoners to British humanity. When told by 
his surgeon that he could not survive above a few hours: "So 
much the better," replied he; "I shall not live to see the sur- 
render of Quebec." To De Ramsay, the French king's lieutenant 
who commanded the garrison, he consigned the defence of the 
city. "To your keeping," said he, "I commend the honor of 
France. I'll neither give orders, nor interfere any further. I have 
business to attend to of greater moment than your ruined garrison, 
and this wretched country. My time is short — I shall pass this 
night with God, and prepare myself for death. I wish you all 
comfort ; and to be happily extricated from your present perplcxi- 



I759-] SURRENDER OF CANADA. 1 17 

ties." He then called for his chaplain, who, with the bishop of 
the colony, remained with him through the night. He expired 
early in the morning, dying like a brave soldier and a devout 
Catholic. Never did two worthier foes mingle their life blood on 
the battle-field than Wolfe and Montcalm. 

Preparations were now made by the army and the fleet to make 
an attack on both upper and lower town ; but the spirit of the gar- 
rison was broken, and the inhabitants were clamorous for the 
safety of their wives and children. On the 17th of September, 
Quebec capitulated, and was taken possession of by the British, 
who hastened to put it in a complete posture of defence. A gar- 
rison of six thousand effective men was placed in it, under the 
command of Brigadier-General Murray, and victualed from the 
fleet. 

Had Amherst followed up his success at Ticonderoga the pre- 
ceding summer, the year's campaign would have ended, as had 
been projected, in the subjugation of Canada. His cautious delay 
gave De Levi, the successor of Montcalm, time to rally, concern- 
trate the scattered French forces, and struggle for the salvation of 
the province. 

In the following spring, as soon as the river 5t. Lawrence opened 
he approached (2uebec, and landed at Point au Tremble, about 
twelve miles off. The garrison had suffered dreadfully during the 
winter from excessive cold, Avant of vegetables and of fresh 
provisions. Many had died of scurvy, and many more were ill. 
Murray, sanguine and injudicious, on hearing that De Levi Avas 
advancing with ten thousand men, and five hundred Indians, 
sallied out with his diminished forces of not more than three 
thousand. English soldiers, he boasted, were habituated to 
victory ; he had a fine train of artillery, and stood a better chance 
in the field than cooped up in a wretched fortification. If defeated 
he would defend the place to the last extremity, and then retreat to 
the Isle of Orleans, and wait for reinforcements. More brave than 
discreet, he attacked the vanguard of the enemy ; the battle which 
took place was fierce and sanguinary. Murray's troops had 
caught his own headlong valor, and fought until near a third of 
their number were slain. They were at length driven back into the 
town, leaving their boasted train of artillery on the field. 

De Levi opened trenches before the town the very evening of 
the battle. Three French ships, which had descended the river, 
furnished him with cannon, mortars, and ammunition. By the 
nth of May, he had one bomb battery, and three batteries of 
cannon. Murray, equally alert within the walls, strengthened his 
defences, and kept up a vigorous fire. His garrison was now 
reduced to two hundred and twenty effective men, and he himself, 
with all his vaunting spirit, was driven almost to despair, when a 
British fleet arrived in the river. The whole scene was now 
reversed. One of the French frigates was driven on the rocks 
above Cape Diamond ; another ran on shore, and was burned ; the 
rest of their vessels were either taken, or destroyed. The besieg- 
ing army retreated in the night, leaving provisions, implements. 



Ii8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and artillery behind them ; and so rapid was their flight, that 
Murray, who saUied forth on the following day, could not over- 
take them. 

A last stand for the preservation of the colony was now made by 
the French at Montreal, where De Vaudreuil fixed his head-quar- 
ters, fortified himself, and called ia all possible aid, Canadian and 
Indian. 

The cautious, but tardy Amherst was now in the field to carry 
out the plan in which he had fallen short in the previous year. He 
sent orders to General Murray to advance by water against 
Montreal, with all the force that could be spared from Quebec ; he 
detached a body of troops under Colonel Haviland from Crown 
Point, to cross Lake Champlain, take possession of the Isle Aux 
Noix, and push oa to the St. Lawrence, while he took the round- 
about way with his main army by the Mohawk and Oneida rivers 
to Lake Ontario ; thence to descend the St. Lawrence to Montreal. 

Murray, according to orders, embarked his troops in a great 
number of small vessels, and ascended the river in characteristic 
style, publishing manifestoes in the Canadian villages, disarming 
the inhabitants, and exacting the oath of neutrality. He looked 
forward to new laureis at Montreal, but the slow and sure Amherst 
had anticipated him. That worthy general, after delaying on Lake 
Ontario to send out cruisers, and stopping to repair petty forts on 
the upper part of the St, Lawrence, which had been deserted by 
their garrisons, or surrendered without firing a gun, arrived on the 
6th of September at the island of Montreal, routed some light skir- 
mishing parties, and presented himself before the town. Vaudreuil 
found himself threatened by an army of nearly ten thousand men, 
and a host of Indians ; for Amherst had called in the aid of Sir 
William Johnson, and his Mohawk braves. To withstand a siege 
in an almost open town against such superior force, was out of the 
question ; especially as Murray from Quebec, and Haviland from 
Crown Point, were at hand with additional troops. A capitulation 
accordingly took place on the 8th of September, including the sur- 
render not merely of Montreal, but of all Canada. 

Thus ended the contest between France and England for 
dominion in America, in which, as has been said, the first gun was 
fired in Washington's encounter with De Jumonville. A French 
statesman and diplomatist consoled himself by the persuasion that 
it would be a fatal triumph to England. It would remove the only 
check by which her colonies, were kept in awe. "They will no 
longer need her protection," said he; "she will call on them to 
contribute toward supporting the burdens they have helped to 
bring on her, and they will ajtswer by striking off all dependefice.'' 

For three months after his marriage, Washington resided with 
his bride at the "White House." During his sojourn there, he 
repaired to Williamsburg, to take his seat in the House of Bur- 
gesses. By a vote of the House it had been determined to greet 
his installation by a signal testimonial of respect. Accordingly, as 
soon as he took his seat, Mr. Robinson, the Speaker, in eloquent 
language, dictated by the warmth of private friendship, returned 



1759.] RURAL LIFE. 



I '9 



thanks, on behalf of the colony, for the distinguished military 
services he had rendered to his country. Washington rose to reply ; 
blushed— stammered— trembled, and could not utter a word. "Sit 
down, Mr. Washington," said the Speaker, with a smile ; "your 
modesty equals your valor, and that surpasses the power of any 
language I possess. " Such was Washington's first launch into civil 
hfe, m which he was to be distinguished by the same judgment, 
devotion, courage, and magnanimity exhibited in his military 
career. He attended the House frequently during the remainder 
of the session, after which he conducted his bride to his favorite 
abode of Mount Vernon. 

Mr. Custis, the first husband of Mrs. Washington, had left large 
landed property, and forty-five thousand pounds sterUng in money. 
Ojie-third fell to his widow in her own right ; two-thirds were 
mherited equally by her two children— a boy of six, and a girl of 
four years of age. By a decree of the General Court. Washington 
was mtrusted with the care of the property inherited by the 
children ; a sacred and delicate trust, which he discharged in the 
most faithful and judicious manner ; becoming more like a parent, 
than a mere guardian to them. 

From a letter to his correspondent in England, it would appear 
that he had long entertained a desire to visit that country. His 
marriage had put an end to all traveling inclinations. In his letter 
from Mount Vernon, he writes: " I am now, I believe, fixed in this 
seat, with an agreeable partner for life, and I hope to find more 
happiness in retirement than I ever experienced in the wide and 
bustling world." 

This was no Utopian dream transiently indulged, amid the 
charms of novelty. It was a deliberate purpose with him. the re- 
sult of innate and enduring inclinations. Throughout the whole 
course of his career, agricultural hfe appears to have been his beau 
ideal o{ existence, which haunted his thoughts even amid the stern 
duties of the field, and to which he recurred with unflagging inter- 
est whenever enabled to indulge his natural bias. 

Mount Vernon was his harbor of repose, where he repeatedly 
furled his sails and fancied himself anchored for life. No impulse 
of ambition tempted him thence ; nothing but the call of his coun- 
try and his devotion to the public good. The place was endeared 
to him by the remembrance of his brother Lawrence, and of the 
happy days he had passed here with that brother in the davs of 
boyhood ; but it was a delightful place in itself, and well calcu- 
lated to inspire the rural feeling. 

The mansion was beautifully situated on a swelling height, 
crowned with wood, and commanding a magnificent view up and 
down the Potomac. The grounds immediately about it were laid 
out somewhat in the English taste. The estate was apportioned 
into separate farms, devoted to different kinds of culture, each hav- 
ing Its allotted laborers. Much, however, was still covered with 
wild woods, seamed with deep dells and runs of water, and in- 
dented with inlets ; haunts of deer, and lurking-places of foxes. 
The whole woody region along the Potomac from Mount Vernon to 



I20 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Belvoir, and far beyond, with its range of forests and hills, and 
picturesque promontories, afforded sport of various kinds, and was 
a noble hunting-ground. Washington had hunted through it with 
old Lord Fairfax in his stripling days ; we do not wonder that his 
feelings throughout life incessantly reverted to it. 

" No estate in United America," observes he, in one of his letters, 
"is more pleasantly situated. In a high and healthy country ; in 
a latitude between the extremes of heat and cold ; on one of the 
finest rivers in the world ; a river well stocked with various kinds 
of fish at all seasons of the year ; and in the spring with shad, 
herrings, bass, carp, sturgeon, etc., in great abundance. The 
borders of the estate are washed by more than ten miles of tide 
water ; several valuable fisheries appertain to it ; the whole shore, 
in fact, is one entire fishery." 

These were, as yet, the aristocratical days of Virginia. The 
estates were large, and continued in the same families by entails. 
Many of the wealthy planters were connected with old families in 
England. The young men, especially the elder sons, were often 
sent to finish their education there, and on their return brought out 
the tastes and habits of the mother country. The governors of 
Virginia were from the higher ranks of society, and maintained a 
corresponding state. The "established," or Episcopal church, 
predominated throughout the "ancient dominion," as it was 
termed ; each county was divided into parishes, as in England — 
each with its parochial church, its parsonage, and glebe. Wash- 
ington was vestryman of two parishes, Fairfax and Truro ; the pa- 
rochial church of the former was at Alexandria, ten miles from 
Mount Vernon ; of the latter, at Pohick, about seven miles. The 
church at Pohick was rebuilt on a plan of his own, and in a great 
ineasure at his expense. At one or other of these churches he 
attended eveiy Sunday, when the weather and the roads permitted. 
His demeanor was reverential and devout. Mrs. Washington knelt 
during the prayers ; he always stood, as was the custom at that 
time. Both were communicants. 

Among his occasional visitors and associates were Captain Hugh 
Mercer and Dr. Craik ; the former, after his narrow escapes from 
the tomahawk and scalping-knife, was quietly settled at Fredericks- 
burg ; the latter, after the campaigns on the frontier were over, had 
taken up his residence at Alexandria, and was now Washmgton's 
family physician. Both were drawn to him by campaigning ties 
and recollections, and were ever welcome at Mount Vernon. 

A style of living prevailed among the opulent Virginian famihes 
in those days that has long since faded away. The houses were 
spacious, commodious, liberal in all their appointments, and fitted 
to cope with the free-handed, open-hearted hospitality of the 
owners. Nothing was more common than to see handsome ser- 
vices of plate, elegant equipages, and superb carriages, horses — all 
imported from England. 

The Virginians have always been noted for their love of horses; 
a manly passion which, in those days of opulence, they indulged, 
without regard to expense. The rich planters vied with each other 




THOMAS JEFFERSON. 



1759-63-] ARISTOCRA TICAL DA YS OF VIRGINIA. 121 

in their studs, importing the best English stocks. Mention is made 
of one of the Randolphs of Tuckahoe, who built a stable for his 
favorite dapple-gray horse, Shakespeare, with a recess for the bed 
of the negro groom, who always slept beside him at night. 

Washington, by his marriage, had added above one hundred 
thousand dollars to his already considerable fortune, and was en- 
abled to live in ample and dignified style. His intimacy with the 
Fairfaxes, and his intercourse with British officers of rank, had per- 
haps had their influence on his mode of living. He had his chariot 
and four, with black postillions in livery, for the use of Mrs. Wash- 
ington and her lady visitors. As for himself, he always appeared 
on horseback. His stable was well filled and admirably regulated. 
His stud was thoroughbred and in excellent order. 

A large Virginia estate, in those days, was a little empire. The 
mansion house was the seat of government, with its numerous de- 
pendencies, such as kitchens, smoke-house, workshops and stables. 
In this mansion the planter ruled supreme ; his steward or overseer 
was his prime minister and executive officer ; he had his legion of 
house negroes for domestic service, and his host of field negroes for 
the culture of tobacco, Indian corn, and other crops, and for other 
out of door labor. Their quarters formed a kind of hamlet apart, 
composed of various huts, with little gardens and poultry yards, all 
well stocked, and swarms of little negroes gamboling in the sun- 
shine. Then there were large wooden edifices for curing tobacco, 
the staple and most profitable production, and mills for grinding 
wheat and Indian corn, of which large fields were cultivated for 
for the supply of the family and the maintenance of the negroes. 

Among the slaves were artificers of all kinds, tailors, shoemakers, 
carpenters, smiths, wheelwrights, and so forth ; so that a plantation 
produced everything within itself for ordinary use: as to articles 
of fashion and elegance, luxuries, and expensive clothing, they 
were imported from London ; for the planters on the main rivers, 
especially the Potomac, carried on an immediate trade with Eng- 
land. Their tobacco was put up by their own negroes, bore their 
own marks, was shipped on board of vessels which came up the 
rivers for the purpose, and consigned to some agent in Liverpool 
or Bristol, with whom the planter kept an account. 

The Virginia planters were prone to leave the care of their estates 
too much to their overseers, and to think personal labor a degreda- 
tion. Washington carried into his rural affairs the same method, 
activity, and circumspection that had distinguished him in military 
life. He kept his own accounts, posted up his books and balanced 
them with mercantile exactness. 

The products of his estate also became so noted for the faithful- 
ness, as to quality and quantity, with which they were put up, that 
it is said any barrel of flour that bore the brand of George Wash- 
ington, Mount Vernon, was exempted from the customary inspec- 
tion in the W^est India ports. 

He was an early riser, often before daybreak in the winter when 
the nights were long. On such occasions he lit his own fire and 
wrote or read by candle-light. He breakfasted at seven in sum- 



122 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

mer, at eight in winter. Two small cups of tea and three or four 
cakes of Indian meal (called hoe cakes), foiTned his frugal repast. 
Immediately after breakfast he mounted his horse and visited those 
parts of the estate where any work was going on, seeing to every- 
thing with his own eyes, and often aiding with his own hand. 

Dinner was served at two o'clock. He ate heartily, but was no 
epicure, nor critical about his food. His beverage was small beer 
or cider, and two glasses of old Madeira. He took tea, of which 
he w^as very fond, early in the evening, and retired for the night 
about nine o'clock. 

If confined to the house by bad weather, he took that occasion 
to arrange his papers, post up his accounts, or write letters ; pass- 
ing part of the time in reading, and occasionally reading aloud to 
the family. 

He treated his negroes with kindness ; attended to their com- 
forts ; was particularly careful of them in sickness ; but never 
tolerated idleness, and exacted a faithful performance of all their 
allotted tasks. He had a quick eye at calculating each man's 
capabilities. An entry in his diary gives a curious instance of this. 
Four of his negroes, employed as carpenters, were hcAving and 
shaping timber. It appeared to him, in noticing the amount of 
work accomplished between two succeeding mornings, that they 
loitered at their labor. Sitting down quietly he timed their opera- 
tions ; how long it took them to get their cross-cut saw and other 
implements ready ; how long to clear away the branches from the 
trunk of a fallen tree ; how long to hew and saw it ; what time was 
expended in considering and consulting, and after all, how much 
work was effected during the time he looked on. From this he 
made his computation how much they could execute in the 
course of a day, working entirely at their ease. 

At another time we find him working for a part of two days 
with Peter, his smith, to make a plow on a new invention of his 
own. This, after two or three failures, he accomplished. Then, 
with less than his usual judgment, he put his two chariot horses to 
the plow, and ran a great risk of spoiling them, in giving his new 
invention a trial overground thickly swarded. 

Anon, during a thunderstorm, a frightened negro alarms the 
house with word that the mill is giving way, upon which there is a 
general turn out of all the forces, with Washington at their head, 
wheehng and shovehng gravel, during a pelting rain, to check the 
rushing water. 

Washington delighted in the chase. In the hunting season, 
when he rode out early in the morning to visit distant parts of the 
estate, where work was going on, he often took some of the dogs 
with him for the chance of starting a fox, which he occasionally 
did, though he was not always successful in killing him. He was 
a bold rider and an admirable horseman, though he never claimed 
the merit of being an accomplished fox-hunter. In the height of 
the season, however, he would be out with the fox-hounds two or 
three times a week, accompanied by his guests at Mount Vernon 
and the gentlemen of the neighborhood, especially the Fairfaxes 



I759-63-] AQUATIC RECREATIONS. 123 

of Belvoir, of which estate his friend George William Fairfax was 
now the proprietor. On such occasions there would be a hunting 
dinner at one or other of those establishments, at which convivial 
repasts Washington is said to have enjoyed himself with unwonted 
hilarity. 

Now and then his old friend and instructor in the noble art of 
venery, Lord Fairfax, would be on a visit to his relatives at Bel- 
voir, and then the hunting was kept up with unusual spirit. 

His lordship, however, since the alarms of Indian war had 
ceased, lived almost entirely at Greenway Court, where Washing- 
ton was occasionally a guest, when called by public business to 
Winchester. Lord Fairfax had made himself a favorite through- 
out the neighborhood. As lord-Heutenant and custos rotulorum of 
Frederick county, he presided at county courts held at W^inchestcr, 
where, during the sessions, he kept open table. He acted also as 
surveyor and overseer of the public roads and highways, and was 
unremitting in his exertions and plans for the improvement of the 
country. Hunting, however, was his passion. When the sport 
was poor near home, he would take his hounds to a distant part of 
the country, establish himself at an inn, and keep open house and 
open table to every person of good character and respectable ap- 
pearance who chose to join him in following the hounds. 

It was probably in quest of sport of the kind that he now and 
then, in the hunting season, revisited his old haunts and former 
companions on the banks of the Potomac, and then the beautiful 
woodland region about Belvoir and Mount Vernon was sure to ring 
at early morn with the inspiring music of the hound. 

The waters of the Potomac also afforded occasional amusement 
in fishing and shooting. The fishing was sometimes on a grand 
scale, when the herrings came up the river in shoals, and the negroes 
of Mount Vernon were marshaled forth to draw the seine, which 
was generally done with great success. Canvas-back ducks 
abounded at the proper season, and the shooting of them was one 
of Washington's favorite recreations. The river border of his 
domain, however, was somewhat subject to invasion. An oysterman 
once anchored his craft at the landing-place, and disturbed the 
quiet of the neighborhood by the insolent and disorderly conduct 
of himself and crew. It took a campaign of three days to expel 
these invaders from the premises. 

A more summary course was pursued with another interloper. 
This was a vagabond who infested the creeks and inlets which bor- 
dered the estate, lurking in a canoe among the reeds and bushes, 
and making great havoc among the canvas-back ducks. He had 
been warned off repeatedly, but without effect. As Washington was 
one day riding about the estate he heard the report of a gun from the 
margin of the river. Spurring in that direction he dashed through the 
bushes and came upon the culprit just as he was pushing his canoe 
from shore. The latter raised his gun with a menacing look ; but 
Washington rode into the stream, seized the painter of the canoe, 
drew it to shore, sprang from his horse, wrested the gun from the 
hands of the astonished delinquent, and inflicted on him a lesson 



124 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

in "Lynch law" that effectually cured him of all incHnation to 
trespass again on these forbidden shores. 

The Potomac, in the palmy days of Virginia, was occasionally the 
scene of a little aquatic state and ostentation among the rich plant- 
ers who resided on its banks. They had beautiful barges, which, 
like their land equipages, were imported from England; and mention 
is made of a Mr. Digges who always received Washington in his 
barge, rowed by six negroes, arrayed in a kind of uniform of check 
shirts and black velvet caps. At one time, according to notes in 
Washington's diary, the whole neighborhood is thrown into a par- 
oxysm of festivity, by the anchoring of a British frigate (the 
Boston) in the river, just in front of the hospitable mansion of the 
Fairfaxes. A succession of dinners and breakfasts take place at 
Mount Vernon and Belvoir, with occasional tea parties on board 
of the frigate. The commander, Sir Thomas Adams, his officers, 
and his midshipmen, are cherished guests, and have the freedom 
of both establishments. 

Occasionally he and Mrs. Washington would pay a visit to 
Annapolis, at that time the seat of government of Maryland, and 
partake of the gayeties which prevailed during the session of the 
legislature. The society of these seats of provincial governments 
was always polite and fashionable, and more exclusive than in these 
repubhcan days, being, in a manner, the outposts of the English 
aristocracy, where all places of dignity or profit were secured for 
younger sons and poor, but proud relatives. During the session 
of the Legislature, dinners and balls abounded, and there were 
occasional attempts at theatricals. The latter was an amusement 
for which Washington always had a relish, though he never had an 
opportunity of gratifying it effectually. Neither was he disinclined 
to mingle in the dance, and we remember to have heard venerable 
ladies, who had been belles in his day, pride themselves on having 
had him for a partner, though, they added, he was apt to be a cer- 
emonious and grave one. 

In this round of rural occupation, rural amusements, and social 
intercourse, Washington passed several tranquil years, the halycon 
season of his life. His already established reputation drew many 
visitors to Mount Vernon ; some of his early companions in arms 
were his occasional guests, and his friendships and connections 
linked him with some of the most prominent and worthy people of 
the country, who were sure to be received with cordial, but simple 
and unpretending hospitality. His marriage was unblessed with 
children ; but those of Mrs. Washington experienced from him 
parental care and affection, and the formation of their minds and 
manners was one of the dearest objects of his attention. His 
domestic concerns and social enjoyments, however, were not per- 
mitted to interfere with his public duties. He was active by nature, 
and eminently a man of business by habit. As judge of the county 
court, and member of the House of Burgesses, he had numerous 
calls upon his time and thoughts, and was often drawn from home ; 
for whatever trust he undertook, he was sure to fulfil with scrupu- 
lous exactness. 



1759-63.] DISMAL SWAMP. 125 

About this time we find him engaged, with other men of enter- 
prise, in a project to drain the great Dismal Swamp, and render it 
capable of cultivation. This vast morass was about thirty miles 
long, and ten miles wide, and its interior but little known. With 
his usual zeal and hardihood he explored it on horseback and on 
foot. In many parts it was covered with dark and gloomy woods 
of cedar, cypress, and hemlock, or deciduous trees, the branches 
of which were hung with long drooping moss. Other parts were 
almost inaccessible, from the density of brakes and thickets, entan- 
gled with vines, briers, and creeping plants, and intersected by 
creeks and standing pools. Occasionally the soil, composed of dead 
vegetable fiber, was over his horse's fetlocks, and sometimes he had 
to dismount and make his way on foot over a quaking bog that 
shook beneath his tread. 

In the center of the morass he came to a great piece of water, 
six miles long, and three broad, called Drummond's Pond, but 
more poetically celebrated as the Lake of the Dismal Swamp. It 
was more elevated than any other part of the swamp, and capable 
of feeding canals, by which the whole might be traversed. Having 
made the circuit of it, and noted all its characteristics, he encamped 
for the night upon the firm land which bordered it, and finished 
his explorations on the following day. In the ensuing session of the 
Virginia Legislature, the association in behalf of which he had acted, 
was chartered under the name of the Dismal Swamp Company ; 
and to his observations and forecast may be traced the subsequent 
improvement and prosperity of that once desolate region. 



CHAPTER VI. 

RISE OF THE REVOLUTIONARY SPIRIT. 

Tidings of peace gladdened the colonies in the spring of 1763. 
The definitive treaty between England and France had been signed 
at Fontainbleau. Now, it was trusted, there would be an end to 
those horrid ravages that had desolated the interior of the country. 
"The desert and the silent place would rejoice, and the wilderness 
would blossom like the rose." 

The month of May proved the fallacy of such hopes. In that 
month the famous insurrection of the Indian tribes broke out, which, 
from the name of the chief who was its prime mover and master 
spirit, is commonly called Pontiac's war. The Delawares and 
Shawnees, and other of those emigrant tribes of the Ohio, among 
whom Washington had mingled, were foremost in this conspiracy. 
Some of the chiefs who had been his allies, had now taken up the 
hatchet against the Enghsh. The plot Avas deep laid, and con- 
ducted with Indian craft and secrecy. At a concerted time an 
attack was made upon all the posts from Detroit to Fort Pitt (late 



126 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Fort Duquesne). Several of the small stockaded forts, the places 
of refuge of woodland neighborhood, were surprised and sacked with 
remorseless butchery. The frontiers of Pennsylvania, Maryland, 
and Virginia, were laid waste ; traders in the wilderness were plun- 
dered and slain ; hamlets and farmhouses were wrapped in flames, 
and their inhabitants massacred. Shingis, with his Delavyare war- 
riors, blockaded Fort Pitt, which, for some time was in imminent 
danger. Detroit, also came near falling into the hands of the sav- 
ages. It needed all the influence of Sir William Johnson, that 
potentate in savage hfe, to keep the Six Nations from joining this 
formidable conspiracy ; had they done so, the triumph of the toma- 
hawk and scalping knife would have been complete ; as it was, a 
considerable time elapsed before the frontier was restored to toler- 
able tranquillity. 

Fortunately, Washington's retirement from the aiTny prevented his 
being entangled in this savage war, which raged throughout the 
regions he had repeatedly visited, or rather his active spirit had 
been diverted into a more peaceful channel, for he was at this time 
occupied in the enterprise just noticed, for draining the great Dis- 
mal Swamp, 

Public events were now taking a tendency which, without any 
pohtical aspiration or forethought of his own, was destined 
gradually to bear him away from his quiet home and individual 
pursuits, and launch him upon a grander and wider sphere of 
action than any in which he had hitherto been engaged. 

The predictions of the Count de Vergennes was in the process 
of fulfillment. The recent war of Great Britain for dominion in 
America, though crowned with success, had engendered a progeny 
of discontents in her colonies. Washington was among the first 
to perceive its bitter fruits. British merchants had complained 
loudly of losses sustained by the depreciation of the colonial 
paper, issued during the late war, in times of emergency, and had 
addressed a memorial on the subject to the Board of Trade. 
Scarce was peace concluded, when an order from the board 
declared that no paper, issued by colonial Assemblies, should 
thenceforward be a legal tender in the payment of debts. Wash- 
ington deprecated this " stir of the merchants ; " as peculiarly ill- 
timed ; and expressed an apprehension that the orders in question 
" would set the whole country in flames." 

Whatever might be the natural affection of the colonies for the 
mother country — and there are abundant evidences to provethat 
it was deep-rooted and strong — it had never been properly recipro- 
cated. They yearned to be considered as children ; they were 
treated by her as changelings. Burke testifies that her policy toward 
them from the beginning had been purely commercial, and her 
commercial policy wholly restricdve. "It was the system of a 
monopoly." 

Her navigation laws had shut their ports against foreign vessels ; 
obliged them to export their productions only to countries belong- 
ing to the British crown ; to import European goods solely from 
England, and in EngUsh ships ; and had subjected the trade 



1763.] REVENUE OF TAXATION. 127 

between the colonies to duties. All manufactures, too, in the 
colonies that might interfere with those of the mother country had 
been either totally prohibited, or subjected to intolerable restraints. 

The acts of Parliament, imposing these prohibitions and restric- 
tions, had at various times produced sore discontent and opposi- 
tion on the part of the colonies, especially among those of New 
England. The interests of these last were chiefly commercial, 
and among them the republican spirit predominated. They had 
sprung into existence during that part of the reign of James I. 
when disputes ran high about kingly prerogative and popular 
privilege. 

The Pilgrims, as they styled themselves, who founded Plymouth 
Colony in 1620, had been incensed while in England by what they 
stigmatized as the oppressions of the monarchy, and the established 
church. They had sought the wilds of America for the indul- 
gence of freedom of opinion, and had brought with them the 
spirit of independence and self-government. Those who followed 
them in the reign of Charles I. were imbued with the same spirit, 
and gave a lasting character to the people of New England. 

Other colonies, having been formed under other circumstances, 
might be inclined toward a monarchical government and disposed 
to acquiesce in its exaction ; but the republican spirit was ever 
alive in New England, watching over " natural and chartered 
rights," and prompt to defend them against any infringements. 
Its example and instigation had gradually an effect on the other 
colonies, a general impatience was evinced from time to time of 
parUamentary interference in colonial affairs, and a disposition in 
the various provincial Legislatures to think and act for themselves 
in matters of civil and religious, as well as commercial polity. 

There was nothing, however, to which the jealous sensiliilities 
of the colonies were more alive than to any attempt of the mother 
country to draw a revenue from them by taxation. From the 
earliest period of their existence, they had maintained the prin- 
ciple that they could only be taxed by a Legislature in which they 
were represented. Sir Robert Walpole, when at the head of the 
British government, was aware of their jealous sensibility on this 
point, and cautious of provoking it. When American taxation 
was suggested, "it must be a bolder man than himself," he replied, 
" and one less friendly to commerce, who should venture on such 
an expedient. For his part, he would encourage the trade of the 
colonies to the utmost ; one half of the profits would be sure 
to come into the royal exchequer through the increased demand 
for British manufactures. " This,'' said he, sagaciously, "is tax- 
ins^ them more agreeably to their own constitution atid laws.'* 

Subsequently ministers adopted a widely different policy. Dur- 
ing the progress of the French war, various projects were dis- 
cussed in England with regard to the colonies, which were to be 
carried into effect on the return of peace. The open avowal of 
some of these plans, and vague rumors of others, more than ever 
irritated the jealous feelings of the colonists, and put the dragon 
spirit of New England on the alert. 



128 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

In 1760, there was an attempt in Boston to collect duties on for- 
eign sugar and molasses imported into the colonies. Writs of 
assistance were applied for by the custom-house officers, author- 
izing them to break open ships, stores, and private dwellings, in 
quest of articles that had paid no duty ; and to call the assistance 
of others in the discharge of their odious task. The merchants 
opposed the execution of the writ on constitutional grounds. The 
question was argued in court, where James Otis spoke so eloquently 
in vindication of American rights, that all his hearers went away 
ready to take arms against writs of assistance. " Then and there," 
says John Adams, who was present, "was the first scene of oppo- 
sition to the arbitrary claims of Great Britain. Then and there 
American Independence was born." 

" Men-of-war," says Burke, "were for the first time armed with 
the regular commissions of custom-house officers, invested the 
coasts, and gave the collection of revenue the air of hostile con- 
tribution, -x- * * -J*- They fell so indiscriminately on all sorts 
of contraband, or supposed contraband, that some of the most 
valuable branches of trade were driven violently from our ports, 
which caused an universal consternation throughout the colonies." 

As a measure of retaliation, the colonists resolved not to pur- 
chase British fabrics, but to clothe themselves as much as possible 
in home manufactures. The demand for British goods in Boston 
alone was diminished upward of .£10,000 sterling in the course of 
a year. 

In 1764, George Grenville, now at the head of government, ven- 
tured upon the policy from which Walpole had so wisely abstained. 
Early in March the eventful question was debated, "whether they 
had a right to tax America." It was decided in the affirmative. 
Next followed a resolution, declaring it properto charge certain stamp 
duties in the colomes and plantations, but no immediate step was 
taken to carry it into effect. Mr. Grenville, however, gave notice 
to the American agents in London, that he should introduce such 
a measure on the ensuing session of Parliament. In the mean 
time Parhament perpetuated certain duties on sugar and molasses — 
heretofore subjects of complaint and opposition — now reduced and 
modified so as to discourage smuggling, and thereby to render 
them more productive. Duties, also, were imposed on other 
articles of foreign produce or manufacture imported into the 
colonies. To reconcile the latter to these impositions, it was stated 
that the revenue thus raised was to be appropriated to their pro- 
tection and security ; in other words, to the support of a standing 
army, intended to be quartered upon them. 

The New Englanders were the first to take the field against the 
project of taxation. They denounced it as a violation of their 
rights as freemen ; of their chartered rights, by which they were 
to tax themselves for their support and defense ; of their rights as 
British subjects, who ought not to be taxed but by themselves or 
their representatives. . They sent petitions and remonstrances 
on the subject to the king, the lords and the commons, in 
which they were seconded by New York and Virginia. Franklin 



1765.] RESOL UTIONS OF PA TRICK HENR V. 1 29 

appeared in London at the head of agents from Pennsylvania, 
Connecticut and South Carolina, to deprecate, in person, measures 
so fraught with mischief. In March, 1765, the act was passed, 
according to which all instruments in writing were to be executed 
on stamped paper, to be purchased from the agents of the British 
government. What was more : all offences against the act could 
be tried in any royal, marine or admiralty court throughout the 
colonies, however distant from the place where the offence had 
been committed ; thus interfering with that most inestimable right, 
a trial by jury. 

It was an ominous sign that the first burst of opposition to this 
act should take place in Virginia. That colony had hitherto been 
slow to accord with the republican spirit of New England. 
P^ounded at an earlier period of the reign of James I., before kingly 
prerogative and ecclesiastical supremacy had been made matters 
of doubt and fierce dispute, it had grown up in loyal attachment 
to king, church, and constitution ; was aristocratical in its tastes 
and habits, and had been remarked above all other colonies for its 
sympathies with the mother country. Washington occupied his 
seat in the House of Burgesses, when, on the 29th of May, the 
stamp act became a subject of discussion. Among the Burgesses 
sat Patrick Henry, a young lawyer who had recently distinguished 
himself by pleading against the exercise of the royal prerogative 
in church matters, and who was now for the first time a member of 
the House. Rising in his place, he introduced his celebrated 
resolutions, declaring that the General Assembly of Virginia had 
the exclusive right and power to lay taxes and impositions upon the 
inhabitants, and that whoever maintained the contrary should be 
deemed an enemy to the colony. The speaker, Mr. Robinson, 
objected to the resolutions, as inflammatory, Henry vindicated 
them, as justified by the nature of the case ; went into an able and 
constitutional discussion of colonial rights, and an eloquent 
exposition of the manner in which they had been assailed ; wound 
up by one of those daring flights of declamation for which he was 
remarkable, and startled the House by a warning flash from 
history : " Caesar had his Brutus ; Charles his Cromwell, and 
George the Third — ('Treason! treason!' resounded from the 
neighborhood of the Chair) — may profit by their examples," added 
Henry. "Sir, if this be treason (bowing to the speaker), make 
the most of it!" 

The resolutions were modified, to accommodate them to the 
scruples of the speaker and some of the members, but their spirit 
was retained. The Lieutenant-Governor (Fauquier), startled by 
this patriotic outbreak, dissolved the Assembly, ana issued writs 
for a new election ; but the clarion had sounded. "The resolves 
of the Assembly of Virginia," says a correspondent of the 
ministry, "gave the signal for a general outcry over the continent. 
The movers and supporters of them were applauded as the 
protectors and assertors of American liberty." 

Washington returned to Mount Vernon full of anxious thoughts 
inspired by the political events of the day, and the legislative 
5 



I30 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

scene which he witnessed. His recent letters had spoken of the 
state of peaceful tranquillity in which he was living ; those now 
written from his rural home show that he fully participated in the 
popular feeling, and that while he had a presentiment of an 
arduous struggle, his patriotic mind was revolving means of coping 
with it. Such is the tenor of a letter written to his wife's uncle, 
Francis Dandridge, then in London. "The stamp act," said he, 
" engrosses the conversation of the speculative part of the colo- 
nists, who look upon this unconstitutional method of taxation as a 
direful attack upon their liberties, and loudly exclaim against the 
violation. What may be the result of this, and of some other (I 
think I may add ill-judged) measures, I will not undertake to 
determine ; but this I may venture to affirm, that the advantage 
accruing to the mother country will fall greatly short of the expec- 
tation of the ministry ; for certain it is, that our whole substance 
already in a manner flows to Great Britain, and that whatsoever 
contributes to lessen our importations must be hurtful to her manu- 
factures. The eyes of our people already begin to be opened; and 
they will perceive, that many luxuries, for which we lavish our 
substance in Great Britain, can well be dispensed with. This, 
consequently, will introduce frugality, and be a necessary incite- 
ment to industry. ****** As to the stamp act, regarded in a 
single view, one of the first bad consequences attending it, is, that 
our courts of judicature must inevitably be shut up ; for it is 
impossible, or next to impossible, under our present circumstances 
that the act of Parliament can be complied with, were we ever so 
willing to enforce its execution. And not to say {which alone 
Avould be sufficient) that we have not money enough to pay for the 
stamps, there are many other cogent reasons which prove that it 
would be ineffectual." 

In the mean time, from his quiet abode at Mount Vernon, he 
seemed to hear the patriotic voice of Patrick Henry, which had 
startled the House of Burgesses, echoing throughout the land, and 
rousing one legislative body after another to follow the example of 
that of Virginia. At the instigation of the General Court or 
Assembly of Massachusetts, a Congress was held in New York in 
October, composed of delegates from Massachusetts, Rhode Island, 
Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, 
Maryland, and South Carolina. In this they denounced the acts 
of Parliament imposing taxes on them without their consent, and 
extending the jurisdiction of the courts of admiralty, as violations 
of their rights and liberties as natural born subjects of Great 
Britain, and prepared an address to the king, and a petition to 
both Houses of Parliament, praying for redress. Similar petitions 
were forwarded to England by the colonies not represented in the 
Congress. 

The very preparations for enforcing the stamp act called forth 
popular tumults in various places. In Boston the stamp distributor 
was hanged in effigy ; his windows were broken ; a house intended 
for a stamp office was pulled down, and the effigy burned in a 
bonfire made of the fragments. The heutenant-governor, chief 



1765. J POPULAR AGITATION. \yi 

justice, and sheriff, attempting to allay the tumult, were pelted. 
The stamp officer thought himself happy to be hanged merely in 
effigy, and next day publicly renounced the perilous office. 

Various were the proceedings in other places, all manifesting 
pubUc scorn and defiance of the act. In Virginia, Mr. George 
Mercer had been appointed distributor of stamps, but on his arrival 
at WilUamsburg publicly dechned officiating. It was a fresh triumph 
to the popular cause. The bells were rung for joy ; the town was 
illuminated, and Mercer was hailed with acclamations of the 
people. 

The 1st of November, the day when the act was to go into opera- 
tion, was ushered in with potentous solemnities. There was great 
tolling of bells and burning of effigies in the New England colonies. 
At Boston the ships displayed their colors but half-mast high. 
Many shops were shut ; funeral knells resounded from the steeples, 
and there was a grand auto-dafe, in which the promoters of the act 
were paraded, and suffered martyrdom in effigy. 

At New York the printed act was carried about the streets on a 
pole, surmounted by a death's head, with a scroll bearing the in- 
scription, "The folly of England and ruin of America." Colden, 
the lieutenant-governor, who acquired considerable odium by recom- 
mending to government the taxation of the colonies, the institution 
of hereditary Assemblies, and other Tory measures, seeing that a 
popular storm was rising, retired into the fort, taking with him the 
stamp papers, and garrisoned it with marines from a ship of war. 
The mob broke into his stable ; drew out his chariot ; put his effigy 
into it ; paraded it through the streets to the common (now the 
Park), where they hung it on a gallows. In the evening it was 
taken down, put again into the chariot, with the devil for a com- 
panion, and escorted back by torchlight to the Bowling Green ; 
where the whole pageant, chariot and all, was burned under the 
very guns of the fort. 

All transactions which required stamps to give them validity were 
suspended, or were executed by private compact. The courts of 
justice were closed, until at length some conducted their business 
without stamps. Union was becoming the watch- word. Tlie mer- 
chants of New York, Philadelphia, Boston, and such other colonies 
as had ventured publicly to oppose the stamp act, agreed to im- 
port no more British manufacturers after the ist of January unless 
it should be repealed. So passed away the year 176$. 

As yet Washington took no prominent part in the public agita- 
tion. Indeed he was never disposed to put himself forward on 
popular occasions, his innate modesty forbade it ; it was others who 
knew his worth that called him forth ; but when once he engaged 
in any public measure, he devoted himself to it with conscientious- 
ness and persevering zeal. At present he remained aquiet but vig- 
ilant observer of events from his eagle nest at Mount Vernon. He 
had some few intimates in his neighborhood who accorded with 
him in sentiment. One of the ablest and most efficient of these was 
Mr. George Mason, with whom he had occasional conversations on 
the state of affairs. His friends, the Fairfaxes, though liberal in 



132 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

feelings and opinions, were too strong in their devotion to the 
crown not to regard with an uneasy eye the tendency of the popular 
bias. 

The dismissal of Mr. Grenville from the cabinet gave a tempo- 
rary change to public affairs. Perhaps nothing had a greater ef- 
fect in favor of the colonies than an examination of Dr. Franklin 
before the House of Commons, on the subject of the stamp act. 
"What," he was asked, *'was the temper of America toward 
Great Britain, before the year 1763?" "The best in the world. 
They submitted willingly to the government of the crown, and paid, 
in all their courts, obedience to the acts of Parliament. Numerous 
as the people are in the several old provinces, they cost you noth- 
ing in forts, citadels, garrisons, or armies, to keep them in subjec- 
tion. They were governed by this country at the expense only of a 
little pen, ink, and paper. They were led by a thread. They had 
not only a respect, but an affection for Great Britain, for its laws, 
its customs, and manners, and even a fondness for its fashions, 
that greatly increased its commerce. Natives of Great Britain were 
always treated with particular regard ; to be an Old-England man 
was, of itself, a character of some respect, and gave a kind of rank 
among us." " And what is their temper now ?" " Oh ! very much 
altered." ** If the act is not repealed, what do you think will be 
the consequences?" "A total loss of the respect and affection the 
people of America bear to this country, and of all the commerce 
that depends on that respect and affection." **Do you think the 
people of America would submit to pay the stamp duty if it was 
moderated?" "No, never, unless compelled by force of arms." 
The act was repealed on the 18th of March, 1766, to the great joy 
of the sincere friends of both countiies, and to no one more than 
to Washington. In one of his letters he observes : " Had the Par- 
liament of Great Britain resolved upon enforcing it, the conse- 
quences, I conceive, would have been more direful than is gener- 
ally apprehended, both to the mother country and her colonies." 
Still there was a fatal clause in the repeal, which declared that the 
king, with the consent of Parliament, had power and authority to 
make laws and statutes of sufficient force and validity to " bind the 
colonies, and people of America, in all cases whatsoever." As the 
people of America were contending for principles, not mere pecuni- 
ary interests, this reserved power of the crown and Parliament left 
the dispute still open, and chilled the feeling of gratitude which the 
repeal might otherwise have inspired. Further aliment for public 
discontent was furnished by other acts of Parliament. One im- 
posed duties on glass, pasteboard, white and red lead, painters* 
colors, and tea; the duties to be collected on the arrival of the 
articles in the colonies ; another empowered naval officers to en- 
force the acts of trade and navigation. Another wounded to the 
quick the pride and sensibilities of New York. The mutiny act had 
recently been extended to America, with an additional clause, re- 
quiring the provincial Assemblies to provide the troops sent out 
with quarters, and to furnish them with fire, beds, candles, and 
other necessaries, at the expenses of the colonies. The Governor 



1765.] REPEAL OF THE STAMP ACT. 13J 

and Assembly of New York refused to comply with this requisition 
*as to stationary forces, insisting that it applied only to troops on a 
march. An act of Parliament now suspended the powers of the 
governor and Assembly until they should comply. Chatham at- 
tributed this opposition of the colonists to the mutiny act to " their 
jealousy of being somehow or other taxed internally by the Parlia- 
ment; the act," said he, "asserting the right of Parhament, has 
certainly spread a most unfortunate jealousy and diffidence of 
government here throughout America, and makes them jealous of 
the least distinction between this country and that, lest the same 
principle may be extended to taxing them." 

Boston continued to be the focus of what the ministerialists 
termed sedition. The General Court of Massachusetts, not content 
with petitioning the king for relief against the recent measures of 
Parhament, especially those imposing taxes as a means of revenue, 
drew up a circular, calling on the other colonial Legislatures to join 
with them in suitable efforts to obtain redress. Nothing, however, 
produced a more powerful effect upon the public sensibilities 
throughout the country, than certain military demonstrations at 
Boston. In consequence of repeated collisions between the peo- 
ple of that place and the commissioners of customs, two regiments 
were held in readiness at Halifax to embark for Boston in the ships 
of Commodore Hood whenever Governor Bernard, or the general 
should give the word. " Had the force been landed in Boston six 
months ago," writes the commodore, "I am perfectly persuaded 
no address or remonstrances would have been sent from the other 
colonies, and that all would have been tolerably quiet and orderly 
at this time throughout America." 

Tidings reached Boston that these troops were embarked and 
that they were coming down to overawe the people. What was to be 
done ? The General Court had been dissolved, and the governor 
refused to convene it without the royal command. A convention, 
therefore, from various towns met at Boston, on the 22d of Sep- 
tember, to devise measures for the public safety ; but disclaiming 
all pretensions to legislative powers. While the convention was 
yet in session (September 28th), the two regiments arrived, with 
seven armed vessels. It was resolved in a town meeting that the 
king had no right to send troops thither without the consent of the 
Assembly ; that Great Britain had broken the original compact, 
and that, therefore, the king's officers had no longer any business 
there. The "selectmen" accordingly refused to find quarters 
for the soldiers in the town ; the council refused to find barracks 
for them, lest it should be construed into a compliance with the 
disputed clause of the mutiny act. Some of the troops, therefore, 
which had tents, were encamped on the common ; others, by the 
governor's orders, were quartered in the state-house, and others in 
Faneuil Hall, to the great indignation of the public, who were 
greviously scandalized at seeing field-pieces planted in front of the 
State-house ; sentinels stationed at the doors, challenging every one 
who passed ; and, above all, at having the sacred quiet of the Sab- 
bath disturbed by drum and fife, and other military music. 



134 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Throughout these public agitations, Washington endeavored to 
preserve his equanimity. Removed from the heated throngs of 
cities, his diary denotes a cheerful and healthful life at Mount 
Vernon, devoted to those rural occupations in which he delighted, 
and varied occasionally by his favorite field sports. Still he was 
too true a patriot not to sympathize in the struggle for colonial 
rights which now agitated the whole country, and we find him 
gradually carried more and more into the current of political affairs. 
A letter written on the 15th of April, 1769, to his friend, George 
Mason, shows the important stand he was disposed to take. "At 
a time," writes he, "when our lordly masters in Great Britain wilj 
be satisfied with nothing less than the deprivation of American 
freedom, it seems highly necessary that something should be done 
to avert the stroke, and maintain the liberty which we have de- 
rived from our ancestors. But the manner of doing it, to answer 
the purpose effectually, is the point in question. That no man 
should scruple, or hesitate a moment in defence of so valuable a 
blessing, is clearly my opinion; yet arms should be the last resource — 
the dernier ressort. We have already, it is said, proved the inef- 
ficacy of addresses to the throne, and remonstrances to Parlia- 
ment. How far their attention to our rights and interests is to be 
awakened, or alarmed, by starving their trade and manufactures, 
remains to be tried. The northern colonies, it appears, are en- 
deavoring to adopt this scheme. In my opinion, it is a good one, 
and must be attended with salutary effects, provided it can be 
carried pretty generally into execution. * * -J*- That there will 
be a difficulty attending it everywhere from clashing interests, and 
selfish, designing men, ever attentive to their own gain, and watch- 
ful of every turn that can assist their lucrative views, cannot be 
denied, and in the tobacco colonies, where the trade is so diffused 
and in a manner wholly conducted by factors for their principals 
at home, these difficulties are certainly enhanced, but I think not 
insurmountably increased, if the gentlemen in their several counties 
will be at some pains to explain matters to the people, and stimulate 
them to cordial agreements to purchase none but certain enumer- 
ated articles out of any of the stores, after a definite period, and 
neither import, nor purchase any themselves. -Jt -Jf- * I can see 
but one class of people, the merchants excepted, who will not 
or ought not, to wish well to the scheme — namely, they who live 
genteelly and hospitably on clear estates. Such as these, were they 
not to consider the valuable object in view, and the good of others, 
might think it hard to be curtailed in their living and enjoy- 
ments." 

This was precisely the class to which Washington belonged ; but 
he was ready and willing to make the sacrifices required. " I 
think the scheme a good one," added he, " and that it ought to be 
tried here, with such alterations as our circumstances render abso- 
lutely necessary." 

A single word in the passage cited from Washington's letter, 
evinces the chord which still vibrated in the American bosom : he 
incidentally speaks of England as home. It was the familiar term 



I7/0.] HOOD AT BOSTON. 135 

with which she was usually indicated by those of English descent; 
and the writer of these pages remembers when the endearing phrase 
still lingered on Anglo-American lips even after the Revolution. 
How easy would it have been before that era for the mother coun- 
try to have rallied back the affections of her colonial children, by 
a proper attention to their complaints ! They asked for nothing but 
what they were entitled to, and what she had taught them to prize 
as their dearest inheritance. The spirit of liberty which they mani- 
fested had been derived from her own precept and example. 

As Massachusetts had no General Assembly at this time, having 
been dissolved by government, the Legislature of Virginia gen- 
erously took up the cause. An address to the king was resolved 
on, stating, that all trials for treason, or misprison of treason, or for 
any crime whatever committed by any person residing in a colony, 
ought to be in and before his majesty's courts within said colony ; 
and beseeching the king to avert from his loyal subjects those 
dangers and miseries which would ensue from seizing and carrying 
beyond sea any person residing in America suspected of any crime 
whatever, thereby depriving them of the inestimable privilege of 
being tried by a jury from the vicinage, as well as the liberty of 
producing witnesses on such trial. 

Disdaining any further application to Parliament, the House or- 
dered the speaker to transmit this address to the colonies' agent in 
England, with directions to cause it to be presented to the king, and 
afterward to be printed and published in the English papers. 

"The worst is past, and the spirit of sedition broken," writes 
Hood to Grenville, early in the spring of 1769. When the commo- 
dore wrote this, his ships were in the harbor, and troops occupied 
the town, and he flattered himself that at length turbulent Boston 
was quelled. But it only awaited its time to be seditious according 
to rule ; there was always an irresistible " method in its madness." 

In the month of May, the General Court, hitherto prorogued, 
met according to charter. A committee immediately waited on 
the governor, stating that it was impossible to do business with 
dignity and freedom while the town was invested by sea and land, 
and a military guard was stationed at the state-house, with cannon 
pointed at the door ; and they requested the governor, as his 
majesty's representative, to have such forces removed out of the 
port and gates of the city during the session of the Assembly. 

The governor repUed that he had no authority over either the 
ships or troops. The court persisted in refusing to transact busi- 
ness while so circumstanced, and the governor was obliged to trans- 
fer the session to Cambridge. There he addressed a message to 
that body in July, requiring funds for the payment of the troops, 
and quarters for their accommodation. The Assembly after ample 
discussion of past grievances, resolved that the establishment of a 
standing army in the colony in a time of peace was an invasion of 
natural rights ; that a standing army was not known as a part of 
the British constitution, and that the sending an armed force to aid 
the civil authority was unprecedented, and highly dangerous to the 
people. 



136 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

After waiting some days without receiving an answer to his mes- 
sage, the Governor sent to know whether the Assembly would, or 
would not, make provision for the troops. In their reply, they fol- 
lowed the example of the Legislature of New York, in commenting 
on the mutiny, or billeting act, and ended by declining to furnish 
funds for the purposes specified, " being incompatible with their own 
honor and interest, and their duty to their constituents." They 
were in consequence again prorogued, to meet in Boston on the 
loth of January. 

Early in 1770, an important change took place in the British 
cabinet. The Duke of Grafton suddenly resigned, and the reins of 
government passed into the hands of Lord North. He was a man 
of hmited capacity, but a favorite of the king, and subservient to 
his narrow colonial policy. His administration, so eventful to 
America, commenced with an error. In the month of March, an 
act was passed, revoking all the duties laid in 1767, excepting that 
on tea. This single tax was continued, as he observed, '-to main- 
tain the parliamentary right of taxation," — the very right which 
was the grand object of contest. In this, however, he was in fact 
yielding, against his better judgment, to the stubborn tenacity of the 
king. 

On the very day in which this ominous bill was passed in Parlia- 
ment, a sinister occurrence took place in Boston. Some of the 
young men of the place insulted the military while under arms ; the 
latter resented it ; the young men, after a scuffle, were put to flight, 
and pursued. The alarm bells rang — a mob assembled; the 
custom-house was threatened ; the troops, in protecting it, were as- 
sailed with clubs and stones, and obliged to use their fire-arms, be- 
fore the tumult could be quelled. Four of the populace were killed 
and several wounded. The troops were now removed from the 
town, which remained in the highest state of exasperation ; and 
this untoward occurrence received the opprobrious, and somewhat 
extravagant name of " the Boston massacre." 

The colonists, as a matter of convenience, resumed the consump- 
tion of those articles on which the duties had been repealed ; but 
continued, on principle, the rigorous disuse of tea, excepting such 
as had been smuggled in. New England was particularly earnest 
in the matter; many of the inhabitants, in the spirit of their Puritan 
progenitors, made a covenant to drink no more of the forbidden 
beverage, until the duty on tea should be repealed. 

In the midst of these popular turmoils, Washington was induced by 
public as well as private considerations, to make another expedition 
to the Ohio. He was one of the Virginia Board of Commissioners, 
appointed, at the close of the late war, to settle the military ac- 
counts of the colony. Among the claims which came before the 
board, were those of the officers and soldiers who had engaged to 
serve until peace, under the proclamation of Governor Dinwiddle, 
holding forth a bounty of two hundred thousand acres of land to be 
apportioned among them according to rank. Those claims were yet 
unsatisfied, for governments, hke individuals, are slow to pay off in 
peaceful times the debts incurred while in the fighting mood. 



I770.J UNEASY STATE OF THE FRONTIER. 137 

Washington became the champion of those claims, and an oppor- 
tunity now presented itself for their liquidation. The Six Nations, 
by a treaty in 1768, had ceded to the British crown, in considera- 
tion of a sum of money, all the lands possessed by them south of 
the Ohio. Land offices would soon be opened for the sale of them. 
Squatters and speculators were already preparing to swarm in, set 
up their marks on the choicest spots, and establish what were called 
pre-emption rights. Washington determined at once to visit the 
lands thus ceded ; affix his mark on such tracts as he should select, 
and apply for a grant from government in behalf of the " soldier's 
claim. 

The expedition would be attended with some degree of danger. 
The frontier was yet in an uneasy state. It is true some time had 
elapsed since the war of Pontiac, but some of the Indian tribes 
were almost ready to resume the hatchet. The Delawares, Shaw- 
nees, and Mingoes, complained that the Six Nations had not given 
them their full share of the consideration money of the 
late sale, and they talked of exacting the deficiency from 
the white men who came to settle in what had been 
their hunting-grounds. Traders, squatters, and other adven- 
turers into the wilderness, were occasionally murdered, and further 
troubles were apprehended. Washington had for a companion in 
this expedition his friend and neighbor, Ur. Craik, and it was with 
strong community of feeling they looked forward peaceably to 
revisit the scenes of their military experience. They sat out on the 
5th of October with three negro attendants, two belonging to Wash- 
ington and one to the doctor. The whole party was mounted, 
and there was a led horse for the baggage. 

After twelve days' traveling they arrived at Fort Pitt (late Fort 
Duquesne). It was garrisoned by two companies of royal Irish, 
commanded by a Captain Edmonson. A hamlet of about twenty 
log-houses, inhabited by Indian traders, had sprung up within 
three hundred yards of the fort, and was called " the town." It 
was the embryo city of Pittsburg, now so populous. At one of the 
houses, a tolerable frontier inn, they took up their quarters ; but 
during their brief sojourn, they were entertained with great hos- 
pitaHty at the fort. Here at dinner Washington met his old 
acquaintance, George Croghan, who had figured in so many capac- 
ities and experienced so many vicissitudes on the frontier. He 
was now Colonel Croghan, deputy-agent to Sir William Johnson, 
and had his residence — or seat, as Washington terms it — on the 
banks of the Allegheny River, about four miles from the fort. 

Croghan had experienced troubles and dangers during the Pon- 
tiac war, both from white men and savage. At one time while he 
was convoying presents from Sir William to the Delawares and 
Shawnees, his caravan was set upon and plundered by a band of 
backwoodsmen of Pennsylvania — men resembling Indians in garb 
and habits, and fully as lawless. At another time, when encamped 
at the mouth of the Wabash with some of his Indian allies, a band 
of Kickapoos, supposing the latter to be Cherokees, their deadly 
enemies, rushed forth from the woods with horrid veils, and shot 



138 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

down several of his companions, and wounded himself. It must 
be added, that no white men could have made more ample apolo- 
gies than did the Kickapoos, when they discovered that they had 
fired upon friends. 

On the day following the repast at the fort, Washington visited 
Croghan at his abode on the Allegheny River, where he found several 
of the chiefs of the Six Nations assembled. 

One of them, the White Mingo by name, made him a speech, 
accompanied, as usual, by a belt of wampum. Some of his com- 
panions, he said, remembered to have seen him in 1753, when he 
came on his embassy to the French commander ; most of them 
had heard of him. They had now come to welcome him to their 
country. They wished the people of Virginia to consider them as 
friends and brothers, linked together in one chain, and requested 
him to inform the governor of their desire to Hve in peace and 
harmony with the white men. As to certain unhappy differences 
which had taken place between them on the frontiers, they were 
all made up, and, they hoped, forgotten. 

Washington accepted the "speech-belt," and made a suitable 
reply, assuring the chiefs that nothing was more desired by the 
people of Virginia than to live with them on terms of the strictest 
friendship. 

At Pittsburg the travelers left their horses, and embarked in a 
large canoe, to make a voyage down the Ohio as far as the Great 
Kanawha. Colonel Croghan engaged two Indians for their ser- 
vice, and an interpreter named John Nicholson. The colonel and 
some of the officers of the garrison accompanied them as far as 
Logstown, the scene of Washington's early diplomacy, andhis first 
interview with the half-king. Here they breakfasted together ; 
after which they separated, the colonel and his companions cheer- 
ing the voyagers from the shore, as the canoe was borne off by the 
current of the beautiful Ohio. 

It was now the hunting season, when the Indian leave their 
towns, set off with their famihes, and lead a roving life in cabins and 
hunting-camps along the river ; shifting from place to place, as game 
abounds or decreases, and often extending their migrations two or 
three hundred miles down the stream. The women were as dex- 
terous as the men in the management of the canoe, but were gen- 
erally engaged in the domestic labors of the lodge while their hus- 
bands were abroad hunting. Washington's propensities as a 
sportsman had here full play. Deer were continually to be seen 
coming down to the water's edge to drink, or browsing along the 
shore ; there were innumerable flocks of wild turkeys, and stream- 
ing flights of ducks and geese ; so that as the voyagers floated 
along, they were enabled to load their canoe with game. At night 
they encamped on the river bank, lit their fire and made a sumpt- 
uous hunter's repast. Washington always relished this wild-wood 
life ; and the present had that spice of danger in it, which has 
a peculiar charm for adventurous minds. The great object of his 
expedidon, however, is evinced in his constant notes on the fea- 
tures and character of the country ; the quality of the soil as indi- 



I770-J SCENES ALONG THE RIVER. T39 

cated by the nature of the trees, and the level tracts fitted for set- 
tlements. 

About seventy-five miles below Pittsburg the voyagers landed at 
a Mingo town, which they found in a stir of warlike preparation — 
sixty of the warriors being about to set off on a foray into the 
Cherokee country against the Catawbas. 

Two days more of voyaging brought them to an Indian hunting 
camp, near the mouth of the Muskingum. Here it was necessary 
to land and make a ceremonious visit, for the chief of the hunting 
party was Kiashuta, a Seneca sachem, the head of the river tribes. 
He was noted to have been among the first to raise the hatchet in 
Pontiac's conspiracy, and almost equally vindictive with that 
potent warrior. As Washington approached the chieftain, he 
recognized him for one of the Indians who had accompanied him 
on his mission to the French in 1753. Kiashuta retained a perfect 
recoJlection of the youthful ambassador, though seventeen years 
had matured him into thoughtful manhood. With hunter's hospi- 
tality he gave him a quarter of a fine buffalo just slain, but insisted 
that they should encamp together for the night ; and in order not 
to retard him, moved with his own party to a good camping place 
some distance down the river. Here they had long talks and 
council-fires over night and in the morning with all the "tedious 
ceremony," says Washington, "which the Indians observe in their 
counselings and speeches." Kiashuta had heard of what had 
passed between Washington and the "White Mingo," and other 
sachems, at Colonel Croghan's, and was eager to express his own 
desire for peace and friendship with Virginia, and fair dealings with 
her traders ; all which Washington promised to report faithfully to 
the governor, It was not until a late hour in the morning that he 
was enabled to bring these conferences to a close, and pursue his 
voyage. 

At the mouth of the Great Kanawha the voyagers encamped a 
day or two to examine the lands in the neigborhood, and Washing- 
ton set up his mark upon such as he intended to claim on behalf 
of the soldiers' grant. It was a fine sporting country, having small 
lakes or grassy ponds abounding with water-fowl, such as ducks, 
geese, and swans. Flocks of turkeys, as is usual; and, for larger 
game, deer and buffalo ; so that their camp abounded with pro- 
visions. 

Here Washington was visited by an old sachem, who approached 
him with great reverence, at the head of several of his tribe, and 
addressed him through Nicholson, the interpreter. He had 
heard, he said, of his being in that part of the country, and had 
come from a great distance to see him. On further discourse, 
the sachem made known that he was one of the warriors in the 
service of the French, who lay in ambush on the banks of the 
Monongahela and wrought such havoc in Braddock's army. He 
declared that he and his young men had singled out Washington,- 
as he made himself conspicuous riding about the field of battle, 
with the general's orders, and had fired at him repeatedly, but 
without success ; whence they had concluded that he was under 



I40 LIFE OF WASHhWGTON. 

the protection of the Great Spirit, had a charmed hfe; and could 
not be slain in battle. 

At the Great Kanawha Washington's expedition down the Ohio 
terminated ; having visited all the points he wished to examine. 
His return to Fort Pitt, and thence homeward, affords no incident 
worthy of note. The whole expedition, however, was one of that 
hardy and adventurous kind, mingled with practical purposes, in 
which he delighted. This winter voyage down the Ohio in a canoe, 
with the doctor for a companion and two Indians for crew, through 
regions yet insecure from the capricious hostility of prowling sav- 
ages, is not one of the least striking of his frontier " experiences." 

We have spoken of Washington's paternal conduct toward the 
two children of Mrs. Washington. The daughter. Miss Custis, 
had long been an object of extreme solicitude. She was of a 
fragile constitution, and for some time past had been in very 
declining health. Early in the present summer, symptoms 
indicated a rapid charge for the worse. Washington was absent 
from home at the time. On his return to Mount Vernon, he found 
her in the last stage of consumption. Though not a man given to 
bursts of sensibility, he is said on the present occasion to have 
evinced the deepest affliction ; kneeling by her bedside, and pour- 
ing out earnest prayers for her recovery. She expired on the 19th 
of June, in the seventeenth year of her age. For a long time pre- 
vious to the death of Miss Custis, her mother, despairing of her 
recovery, had centered her hopes in her son, John Parke Custis. 
This rendered Washington's guardianship of him a delicate and 
difficult task. He was Hvely, susceptible, and implusive ; had an 
independent fortune in his own right, and an indulgent mother, 
ever ready to plead in his behalf against wholesome discipline. 
He had been placed under the care and instruction of an Episcopal 
clergyman at Annapolis, but was occasionally at home, mounting 
his horse, and taking a part, while yet a boy, in the fox-hunts at 
Mount Vernon. His education had consequently been irregular 
and imperfect, and not such as Washington would have enforced 
had he possessed over him the absolute authority of a father. 
Shortly after the return of the latter from his tour to the Ohio, he 
was concerned to find that there was an idea entertained of send- 
ing the lad abroad, though but little more than sixteen years of 
age, to travel under the care of his clerical tutor. Through his 
judicious interference, the traveling scheme was postponed, and it 
was resolved to give the young gentleman's mind the benefit of a 
little preparatory home culture. 

Little more than a year elapsed before the sallying impulses of 
the youth had taken a new direction. He was in love ; what was 
more, he was engaged to the object of his passion, and on the high 
road to matrimony. 

Washington now opposed himself to premature marriage as he 
had done to premature travel. A correspondence ensued between 
him and the young lady's father, Benedict Calvert, Esq. The 
match was a satisfactory one to all parties, but it was agreed, that 
it was expedient for the youth to pass a year or two previously at 



1 773.] EARL V TRA VEL AND EARL VMARRL4GE. 141 

college. Washington accordingly accompanied him to New York, 
and placed him under the care of the Rev. Dr. Cooper, president 
of King's (now Columbia) College, to pursue his studies in that 
institution. All this occurred before the death of his sister. 
Within a year after that melancholy event, he became impatient 
for a union with the object of his choice. His mother, now more 
indulgent than* ever to this, her only child, yielded her consent, 
and Washington no longer made opposition. 

" It has been against my wishes," writes the latter to President 
Cooper, "that he should quit college in order that he may soon 
enter into a new scene of life, which I think he would be much 
fitter for some years hence than now. But having his own inclina- 
tion, the desires of his mother, and the acquiescence of almost all 
his relatives to encounter, I did not care, as he is the last of the 
family, to push my opposition too far ; I have, therefore, submitted 
to a kind of necessity." 

The marriage was celebrated on the 3d of February, 1774, 
before the bridegroom was twenty -one years of age. 

The general covenant throughout the colonies against the use of 
taxed tea, had operated disastrously against the interests of the 
East India Company, and produced an immense accumulation of 
the proscribed article in their warehouses. To remedy this, Lord 
North brought in a bill (1773), ^y which the company were allowed 
to export their teas from England to any part whatever, without 
paying export duty. This, by enabling them to offer their teas at 
a low price in the colonies would, he supposed, tempt the Americans 
to purchase large quantities thus relieving the company, and at 
the same time benefiting the revenue by the impost duty. Con- 
fiding in the wisdom of this policy, the company disgorged their 
warehouses, freighted several ships with tea, and sent them to 
various parts of the colonies. This brought matter to a crisis. 
One sentiment, one determination, pervaded the whole continent. 
Taxation was to receive its definitive blow. Whoever submitted to 
it was an enemy to his country. From New York and Philadelphia 
the ships were sent back, unladen, to London. In Charleston the 
tea was unloaded, and stored away in cellars and other places, 
where it perished. At Boston the action was still more decisive. 
The ships anchored in the harbor. Some small parcels of tea 
were brought on shore, but the sale of them was prohibited. The 
captains of the ships, seeing the desperate state of the case, would 
have made sail back for England, but they could not obtain the 
consent of the consignees, a clearance at the custom-house, or a 
passport from the governor to clear the fort. It was evident, the 
tea was to be forced upon the people of Boston, and the principle 
of taxation established. 

To settle the matter completely, and prove that, on a point of 
principle, they were not to be trifled with, a number of the inhabi- 
tants, disguised as Indians, boarded the ships in the night (i8th 
December), broke open all the chests of tea, and emptied the con- 
tents into the sea. This was no rash and intemperate proceeding 
of a mob, but the well-considered, though resolute act of sober. 



142 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

respectable citizens, mefi of reflection, but determination. The 
whole was done calmly, and in perfect order ; after which the 
actors in the scene dispersed without tumult, and returned quietly 
to their homes. 

The general opposition of the colonies to the principle of taxa- 
tion had given great annoyance to government, but this individual 
act concentrated all its wrath upon Boston. A bill was forthwith 
passed in Parliament (commonly called the Boston port bill), by 
which all lading and unlading of goods, wares, and merchandise, 
were to cease in that town and harbor, on and after the 4th oif 
June, and the officers of the customs to be transferred to Salem. 
Another law passed soon after, altered the charter of the province, 
decreeing that all counselors, judges, and magistrates, should be 
appointed by the crown, and hold office during the royal pleasure. 
This was followed by a third, intended for the suppression of riots ; 
and providing that any person indicted for murder, or other capital 
offence, committed in aiding the magistracy might be sent by the 
governor to some other colony, or to Great Britain, for trial. Such 
was the bolt of Parliamentary wrath fulminated against the 
devoted town of Boston. Before it fell there was a session in 
May, of the Virginia House of Burgesses. The social position of 
Lord Dunmore had been strengthened in the province by the 
arrival of his lady, and a numerous family of sons and daughters. 
Tlie old Virginia aristocracy had vied with each other in hospitable 
attentions to the family. A court circle had sprung up. Regula- 
tions had been drawn up by a herald, and published officially, 
determining the rank and precedence of civil and military officers, 
and their wives. The aristocracy of the Ancient Dominion was 
furbishing up its former splendor. Carriages and four rolled into 
the streets of Williamsburg, with horses handsomely caparisoned, 
bringing the wealthy planters and their families to the seat of 
government. 

All things were going on smoothly and smilingly, when a letter, 
received through the corresponding committee, brought intelligence 
of the vindictive measure of Parliament, by which the port of 
Boston was to be closed on the approaching ist of June. 

The letter was read in the House of Burgesses, and produced a 
general burst of indignation. All other business was thrown aside, 
and this became the sole subject of discussion. A protest against 
this and other recent acts of Parliament was entered upon the 
journal of the House, and a resolution was adopted, on the 24th of 
May, setting apart the 1st of June as a day of fasting, prayer, and 
humiliation ; in which the divine interposition was to be implored, 
to avert the heavy calamity threatening destruction to their rights, 
and all the evils of civil war ; and to give the people one heart and 
one mind in firmly opposing every injury to American liberties. 

On the following morning, while the Burgesses were engaged in 
animated debate, they were summoned to attend Lord Dunmore in 
the council chamber, where he made them the following laconic 
speech: "Mr. Speaker, and Gentlemen of the House of Bur- 
gesses ; I have in my hand a paper, published by orders of your 



1774] T^HE BOSTON PORT BILL. 143 

House, conceived in such terms, as reflect highly upon his majesty, 
and the Parliament of Great Britain, which makes it necessary for 
me to dissolve you, and you are dissolved accordingly.'* The mem- 
bers adjourned to the long room of the old Raleigh tavern, and 
passed resolutions, denouncing the Boston port bill as a most dan- 
gerous attempt to destroy the constitutional liberty and rights of all 
North America; recommending their countr}'men to desist from 
the use, not merely of tea, but of all kinds of East Indian com- 
modities ; pronouncing an attack on one of the colonies, to enforce 
arbitrary taxes, an attack on all ; and ordering the committee of 
correspondence to communicate with the other corresponding com- 
mittees, on the expediency of appointing deputies from the several 
colonies of British America, to meet annually in General Con- 
gress, at such place as might be deemed expedient, to deliberate on 
such measures as the united interest of the colonies might require. 

This was the first recommendation of a General Congress by any 
public assembly, though it had been previously proposed in town 
meetings at New York and Boston. A resolution to the same 
efi^ect was passed in the Assembly of Massachusetts before it was 
aware of the proceedings of the Virginia Legislature, Tlie 
measure recommended met with prompt and general concurrence 
throughout the colonies, and the fifth day of September next ensu- 
ing was fixed upon for the meeting of the first Congress, which was 
to be held at Philadelphia. 

Washington was still at Wilhamsburg on the ist of June, the 
day when the port bill was to be enforced at Boston. It was 
ushered in by the tolling of bells, and observed by all true patriots 
as a day of fasting and humiliation. Washington notes in his 
diary that he fasted rigidly, and attended the services appointed in 
the church. The harbor of Boston was closed at noon, and all 
business ceased. The two other parliamentary acts altering the 
charter of Massachusetts were to be enforced. No pubhc meetings, 
excepting the annual town meetings in March and May, were to 
be held without permission of the governor. General Thomas 
Gage had recently been appointed to the military command of 
Massachusetts, and the carrying out of these offensive acts. He 
was the same officer who, as lieutenant-colonel, had led the 
advance guard on the field of Braddock's defeat. Fortune had 
since gone well with him. Rising in the service, he had been 
governor of Montreal, and had succeeded Amherst in the com- 
mand of the British forces on this continent. He was linked to 
the country also by domestic ties, having married into one of the 
most respectable families of New Jersey. With all his experience 
in America, he had formed a most erroneous opinion of the charac- 
ter of the people. " The Americans," said he to the king, "will 
be lions only as long as the English are lambs ; " and he engaged, 
with five regiments to keep Boston quiet ! The manner in which 
his attempts to enforce the recent acts of Parliament were resented, 
showed how egregiously he was in error. At the suggestion of the 
Assembly, a paper was circulated through the province by the 
committee of correspondence, entitled "a solemn league and 



144 L^F^ OF WASHINGTON. 

covenant," the subscribers to which bound themselves to break 
off all intercourse vi^ith Great Britain from the ist of August, until 
the colony should be restored to the enjoyment of its chartered 
rights ; and to renounce all dealings with those who should refuse 
to enter into this compact. 

The very title of league and covenant had an ominous sound, 
and startled General Gage. He issued a proclamation, denounc- 
ing it as illegal and traitorous. Furthermore, he encamped a force 
of infantry and artillery on Boston Common, as if prepared to 
enact the lion. An alarm spread through the adjacent country. 
" Boston is to be blockaded ! Boston is to be reduced to obedience 
by force or famine ! " The spirit of the yeomanry was aroused. 
They sent in word to the inhabitants promising to come to their aid 
if necessary ; and urging them to stand fast to the faith. 

Shortly after Washington's return to Mount Vernon, in the latter 
part of June, he presided as moderator at a meeting of the inhabit- 
ants of Fairfax County, wherein, after the recent acts of Parlia- 
ment had been discussed, a committee was appointed, with himself 
as chairman, to draw up resolutions expressive of the sentiments of 
the present meeting, and to report the same at a general meeting 
of the county, to be held in the court-house on the i8th of July. 

The committee met according to appointment, with Washington 
as chairman. The resolutions framed at the meeting insisted, as 
usual, on the right of self-government, and the principal that taxa- 
tion and representation were in their nature inseparable. That the 
various acts of Parliament for raising revenue ; taking away trials 
by jury; ordering that persons might be tried in a different country 
from that in which the cause of accusation originated ; closing the 
port of Boston ; abrogating the charter of Massachusetts Bay, 
&c., &c., — were all part of a premeditated design and system to in- 
troduce arbitrary government into the colonies. That the sudden 
and repeated dissolutions of Assemblies whenever they presumed 
to examine the illegahty of ministerial mandates, or deliberated on 
the violated rights of their constituents, were part of the same 
system, and calculated and intended to drive the people of the 
colonies to a state of desperation, and to dissolve the compact by 
which their ancestors bound themselves and their posterity to re- 
main depend on the British crown. These resolutions are the more 
worthy of note, as expressive of the opinions and feelings of Wash- 
ington at this eventful time, if not being entirely dictated by him. 

The resolutions reported by the committee were adopted, and 
Washington was chosen a delegate to represent the county at the 
General Convention of the province, to be held at Williamsburg 
on the first of August. 

The popular measure on which Washington laid the greatest 
stress as a means of obtaining redress from government, was the 
non-importation scheme ; "for I am convinced," said he, " as much 
as of my existence, that there is no rehef for us but in their distress ; 
and I think — at least I hope — that there is public virtue enough left 
among us to deny ourselves everything but the bare necessaries of 
life to accomplish this end." At the same time, he forcibly con- 



I774-] VIRGINIA CONVENTION, 145 

demned a suggestion that remittances to England should be with- 
held. •• Wliile we are accusing others of injustice," said he, " we 
should be just ourselves ; and how this can be while we owe a con- 
siderable debt, and refuse payment of it to Great Britain is to me 
inconceivable : nothing but the last extremity can justify it." 

On the 1st of August, the convention of representatives from all 
parts of Virginia assembled at Williamsburg. Washington appeared 
on behalf of Fairfax County, and presented the resolutions, already 
cited, as the sense of his constituents. He is said by one who was 
present, to have spoken in support of them in a strain of uncom- 
mon eloquence, which shows how his latent ardor had been excited 
on the occasion, as eloquence was not in general among his attri- 
butes. It is evident, however, that he was roused to an unusual 
pitch of enthusiasm, for he is said to have declared that he was 
ready to raise one thousand men, subsist them at his own expense, 
and march at their head to the relief of Boston. The Convention 
was six days in session. Resolutions, in the same spirit with those 
passed in Fairfax County, were adopted, and Peyton Randolph, 
Richard Henry Lee, George Washington, Patrick Henry, Richard 
Bland, Benjamin Harrison, and Edmund Pendleton, were appointed 
delegates to represent the people of Virginia in the General Con- 
gress. 

Washington had formed a correct opinion of the position of Gen- 
eral Gage. From the time of taking command at Boston, he had 
been perplexed how to manage its inhabitants. Had they been 
hot-headed, impulsive, and prone to paroxysm, his task would 
have been comparatively easy ; but it was the cool, shrewd, com- 
mon sense, by which all their movements were regulated, that con- 
founded him. 

High-handed measures had failed of the anticipated effect. 
Their harbor had been thronged with ships ; their town with troops. 
The port bill had put an end to commerce ; wharves were deserted, 
warehouses closed ; streets grass-grown and silent. The rich were 
growing poor, and the poor were without employ ; yet the spirit of 
the people was unbroken. There was no uproar, however ; no 
riots ; everything was awfully systematic and according to rule. 
Town meetings were held, in which public rights and public meas- 
ures were eloquently discussed by John Adams, Josiah Quincy, 
and other eminent men. Over these meetings Samuel Adams pre- 
sided as moderator ; a man clear in judgment, calm in conduct, 
inflexible in resolution ; deeply grounded in civil and political his- 
tory, and infallible on all points of constitutional law. 

Alarmed at the powerful influence of these assemblages, govern- 
ment issued an act prohibiting them after the ist of August. The 
act was evaded by convoking the meetings before the day, and 
keeping them alive indefinitely. Gage was at a loss how to act. 
It would not do to disperse these assemblages by force of arms ; 
for, the people who composed them mingled the soldier with the 
polemic ; and, like their prototypes, the covenanters of yore, if 
prone to argue, were as ready to fight. So the meetings continued 
to be held pertinaciously. Faneuil Hall was at times unable to hold 



146 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

them, and they swarmed from that revolutionary hive into old 
South Church. The liberty tree became a rallying place for any 
popular movement, and a flag hoisted on it was saluted by all pro- 
cessions as the emblem of the popular cause. 

Opposition to the new plan of government assumed a more vio- 
lent aspect at the extremity of the province, and was abetted by 
Connecticut. " It is very high," writes Gage, (August 26th), " in 
Berkshire County, and makes way rapidly to the rest. At Wor- 
cester they threaten resistance, purchase arms, provide powder, 
cast balls, and threaten to attack any troops who may oppose them. 
I apprehend I shall soon have to march a body of troops into that 
township." 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE FIRST CONTINENTAL CONGRESS. 

When the time approached for the meeting of the General Con- 
gress at Phifedelphia, Washington was joined at Mount Vernon by 
Patrick Henry, and Edmund Pendleton, and they performed the 
journey together on horseback. It was a noble companionship. 
Henry was then in the youthful vigor and elasticity of his bounding 
genius ; ardent, acute, fanciful, eloquent. Pendleton, schooled in 
public hfe, a veteran in council, with native force of intellect, and 
habits of deep reflection. Washington, in the meridian of his days, 
mature in wisdom, comprehensive in mind, sagacious in foresight. 
Such were the apostles of liberty, repairing on their august pilgrim- 
age to Philadelphia from all parts of the land, to lay the founda- 
tions of a mighty empire. Well may we say of that eventful period, 
" There were giants in those days." 

Congress assembled on Monday, the 5th of September, in a large 
room in Carpenter's Hall. There were fifty-one delegates, repre- 
senting all the colonies excepting Georgia. 

The meeting has been described as " awfully solemn." The 
most eminent men of the various colonies were now for the first 
time brought together ; they were known to each other by fame, 
but were, personally, strangers. The object which had called them 
together was of incalculable magnitude. The liberties of no less than 
three millions of people, with that of all their posterity, were staked 
on the wisdom and energy of their councils. " It is such an as- 
sembly," writes John Adams, who was present, "as never before 
came together on a sudden, in any part of the world. Here are 
fortunes, abilities, learning, eloquence, acuteness, equal to any I 
ever met with in my life. Here is a diversity of religion, educations, 
manners, interests, such as it would seem impossible to unite in one 
plan of conduct." 

There being an inequality in the number of delegates from the 



1774.] MEETING OF THE FIRST CONGRESS. 147 

different colonies, a question arose as to the mode of voting ; 
whether by colonies, by the poll, or by interests. Patrick Henry 
scouted the idea of sectional distinctions or individual interests. 
"All America," said he, "is thrown into one mass. Wliere are 
your landmarks — your boundaries of colonies.'' They are all 
thrown down. The distinctions between Virginians, Pennsyl- 
vanians. New Yorkers and New Englanders, are no more. I am 
not a Vi7'ginia7t, but an American^ After some debate, it was 
determined that each colony should have but one vote, whatever 
might be the number of its delegates. The deliberations of the 
House were to be with closed doors, and nothing but the resolves 
promulgated, unless by order of the majority. To give proper 
dignity and solemnity to the proceedings of the House, it was 
moved on the following day, that each morning the session should 
be opened by prayer. To this it was demurred, that as the dele- 
gates were of different religious sects they might not consent to 
join in the same form of worship. Upon this, Mr. Samuel Adams 
arose and said: "He would willingly join in prayer with any gen- 
tleman of piety and virtue, whatever might be his cloth, provided 
he was a friend of his country ;" and he moved that the reverend 
Mr. Duche, of Philadelphia, who answered to that description, 
might be invited to officiate as chaplain. This was one step 
toward unanimity of feehng, Mr. Adams being a strong Congrega- 
tionalist, and Mr. Uuche an eminent Episcopalian clergyman. 
The motion was carried into effect ; the invitation was given and 
accepted. 

In the course of the day, a rumor reached Philadelphia that Bos- 
ton had been cannonaded by the British. It produced a strong 
sensation ; and when Congress met on the following morning (7th), 
the effect was visible in every countenance. The delegates from 
the east were greeted with a warmer grasp of the hand by their 
associates from the south. 

The reverend Mr. Duche, according to invitation appeared in 
his canonicals, attended by his clerk. The morning service of the 
Episcopal church was read with great solemnity, the clerk making 
the responses. The Psalter for the 7th day of the month includes 
the 35th Psalm, wherein David prays for protection against his 
enemies. " Plead my cause, O Lord, with them that strive with 
me : fight against them that f\ght against me. Take hold of 
shield and buckler and stand up for my help. Draw out, also, the 
spear and stop the way of them that persecute me. Say unto my 
soul, I am thy salvation." The imploring words of this psalm 
spoke the feelings of all hearts present ; but especially of three 
from New England. 

John Adams writes in a letter to his wife : "You must remember 
this was the morning after we heard the horrible rumor of the can- 
nonade of Boston. I never saw a greater effect upon an audience. 
It seemed as if heaven had ordained that psalm to be read on that 
morning. After this, Mr. Duche unexpectedly struck out into an 
extemporary prayer, which filled the bosom of every man present. 
Episcopalian as he is, Dr. Cooper himself never prayed with such 



148 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

fervor, such ardor, such earnestness and pathos, and in language 
so eloquent and subhme, for America, for the congress, for the 
province of Masschusetts Bay, and especially the town of Boston. 
It has had an excellent effect upon everybody here." 

The rumored attack upon Boston rendered the service of the 
day deeply affecting to all present. They were one political fam- 
ily, actuated by one feeling, and sympathizing with the weal and 
woe of each individual member. The rumor proved to be erro- 
neous ; but it had produced utmost beneficial effect in calling forth 
and quickening the spirit of union, so vitally important in that 
assemblage. 

Owing to closed doors, and the want of reporters, no record 
exists of the discussions and speeches made in the first Congress. 
Mr. Wirt, speaking from tradition, informs us that a long and deep 
silence followed the organization of that august body ; the mem- 
bers looking round upon each other, individually reluctant to 
open a business so fearfully momentous. This " deep and death- 
like silence" was beginning to become painfully embarrassing, 
when Patrick Henry arose. He faltered at first, as was his habit", 
but his exordium was impressive ; and as he launched forth into a 
recital of colonial wrongs he kindled with his subject, until he 
poured forth one of those eloquent appeals which had so often 
shaken the House of Burgesses and gained him the fame of being 
the greatest orator of Virginia. He sat down, according to Mr. 
Wirt, amidst murmurs of astonishment and applause, and was 
now admitted on every hand, to be the first orator of America. He 
was followed by Richard Henry Lee, who, according to the same 
writer, charmed the house with a different kind of eloquence, chaste 
and classical ; contrasting, in its cultivated graces, with the wild and 
grand effusions of Henry. "The superior powers of these great 
men, however," adds he, "were manifested only in debate, and 
while general grievances were the topic ; when called down from the 
heights of declamation to that severer test of intellectual excel- 
lence, the details of business, they found themselves in a body of 
cool-headed, reflecting, and most able men, by whom they were, 
in their turn, completely thrown into the shade." 

The first public measure of Congress was a resolution declara- 
tory of their feelings with regard to the recent acts of Parliament, 
violating the rights of the people of Massachusetts, and of their 
determination to combine in resisting any force that might attempt 
to carry those acts into execution. 

A committee of two from each province reported a series of res- 
olutions, which were adopted and promulgated by Congress, as a 
"declaration of colonial rights." In this were enumerated their 
natural rights to the enjoyment of life, liberty, and property ; and 
their rights as British subjects. Among the latter was partici- 
pation in legislation Councils. This they could not exercise 
through representatives in ParHament; they claimed, therefore, 
the power of legislating in their provincial assemblies ; consenting, 
however, to such acts of Parliament as might be essential to the 
regulation of trade ; but excluding all taxation, internal or external, 



1 774.] DECLARA TOR Y RESOLUTION. 149 

for raising revenue in America. The common law of England 
was claimed as a birthright, including the right of trial by a jury 
of the vicinage ; of holding public meetings to consider grievances; 
and of petitioning the king. The benefits of all such statutes as 
existed at the time of the colonization were likewise claimed ; 
together with the immunities and privileges granted by royal 
charters, or secured by provincial laws. The maintenance of a 
standing army in any colony in time of peace, without the consent 
of its legislative, was pronounced contrary to law. The exercise 
of the legislature power in the colonies by a council appointed 
during pleasure by the crown, was declared to be unconstitutional, 
and destructive to the freedom of American legislation. Then fol- 
lowed a specification of the acts of Parliament, passed during the 
reign of George III., infringing and violating these rights. These 
were the sugar act; the stamp act; the two acts for quartering 
troops ; the tea act ; the act suspending the New York legislature ; 
the two acts for the trial in Great Britain of offences committed in 
America ; the Boston port bill ; the act for regulating the govern- 
ment of Massachusetts, and the Quebec act. "To these grievous 
acts and measures," it was added, "Americans cannot submit; 
but in hopes their fellow subjects in Great Britain will, on a revision 
of them, restore us to that state in which both countries found hap- 
piness and prosperity, we have, for the present, only resolved to 
pursue the following peaceable measures : " ist. To enter into a 
non-importation, non-consumption, and non-exportation agreement 
or association." "2d. To prepare an address to the people of 
Great Britain, and a memorial to the inhabitants of British 
America." " 3d. To prepare a loyal address to his majesty." 

The Congress remained in session fifty-one days. Every subject 
according to Adams, was discussed "with a moderation, an acute- 
ness, and a minuteness equal to that of Queen Elizabeth's privy 
council." The papers issued by it have deservedly been pro- 
nounced masterpieces of practical talent and political wisdom. 
Chatham, when speaking on the subject in the House of Lords, 
could not restrain his enthusiasm. " When your lordships," said 
he, "look at the papers transmitted to us from America; when 
you consider their decency, firmness, and wisdom, you cannot but 
respect their cause, and wish to make it your own. For myself, I 
must declare and avow that, in the master states of the world, 
I know not the people, or senate, who, in such a complication of 
difficult circumstances, can stand in preference to the delegates of 
America assembled in General Congress at Philadelphia." 

From the secrecy that enveloped its discussions, we are ignorant 
of the part taken by Washington in the debates ; the similarity of 
the resolutions, however, in spirit and substance to those of the 
Fairfax County meeting, in which he presided, and the coincidence 
of the measures adopted with those therein recommended, show 
that he had a powerful agency in the whole proceedings of this 
eventful assembly. Patrick Henry, being asked, on his return 
home, whom he considered the greatest man in Congress, replied : 
"If you speak of eloquence, Mr. Rutledge, of South Carolina, is 



150 THE LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

by far the greatest orator; but if you speak of solid information 
and sound judgment, Colonel Washington is unquestionably the 
greatest man on that floor." 

Washington's views with respect to independence are expressed 
in a letter to Capt. Robert Mackenzie, a British officer. He says : — 
"I am well satisfied that no such thing is desired by any thinking 
man in all North America ; on the contrary, that it is the ardent 
wish of the warmest advocate for liberty, that peace and tranquillity, 
upon constitutional grounds, may be restored, and the horrors of 
civil discord prevented." It is evident that the filial feeling still 
throbbed toward the mother country, and a complete separation 
from her had not yet entered into the alternatives of her colonial 
children. 

In the same letter, Washington says, that the people will never 
" submit to the loss of their valuable rights and privileges, which 
must naturally result fiom the late acts of Parliament relative to 
America in general, and the government of Massachusetts in par- 
ticular, is it to be wondered at that men who wish to avert the 
impending blow, should attempt to oppose its progress, or prepare 
for their defence, if it cannot be averted? Surely I may be 
allowed to answer in the negative ; and give me leave to add, as 
my opinion, that more blood will be spilled on this occasion, if the 
ministry are determined to push matters to extremity, than histoiy 
has ever yet furnished instances of in the annals of North America ; 
and such a vital wound will be given to the peace of this great coun- 
try, as time itself cannot cure or eradicate the remembrance of." 

On the breaking up of Congress, Washington hastened back to 
Mount Vernon, where his presence was more than usually import- 
ant to the happiness of Mrs. Washington, from the loneliness caused 
by the recent death of her daughter, and the absence of her son. 
The cheerfulness of the neighborhood had been diminished of late 
by the departure of George William Fairfax for England, to take 
possession of estates which had devolved to him in that kingdom. 
His estate of Belvoir, so closely aUied with that of Mount Vernon 
by family ties and reciprocal hospitality, was left in charge of a 
steward, or overseer. Through some accident the house took fire, 
and was burned to the ground. It was never rebuilt. The course 
of political events which swept Washington from his quiet home 
into the current of public and military life, prevented William Fair- 
fax, who was a royalist, though a liberal one, from returning to his 
once happy abode, and the hospitable intercommunion of Mount 
Vernon and Belvoir was at an end forever. 

The rumor of the cannonading of Boston, which had thrown 
such a gloom over the religious ceremonial at the opening of Con- 
gress, had been caused by measures of Governor Gage. The public 
mind, in Boston and its vicinity, had been rendered excessively jeal- 
■ ous and sensitive by the landing and encamping of artillery upon 
the Common, and Welsh Fusihers on Fort Hill, and by the plant- 
ing of four large field-pieces on Boston Neck, the only entrance to 
the town by land. The country people were arming and disci- 
plining themselves in every direction, and collecting and depositing 
arms and ammunition in places where they would be at hand in case 



1774.] GENERAL CHARLES LEE. 151 

of emergency. Gage, on the other hand, issued orders that the 
munitions of war in all the public magazines should be brought 
to Boston. One of these magazines was the arsenal in the north- 
west part of Charlestown, between Medford and Cambridge. Two 
companies of the king's troops passed silenty in boats up Mystic 
River in the night ; took possession of a large quantity of gun- 
powder deposited there, and conveyed it to Castle Williams. In- 
telligence of this sacking of the arsenal flew with lightning speed 
through the neighborhood. In the morning several thousands 
of patriots were assembled at Cambridge, weapon in hand, and 
were with difficulty prevented from marching upon Boston to 
compel a restitution of the powder. 

In the meantime the belligerent feelings of the inhabitants were 
encouraged, by learning how the rumor of their being cannonaded 
had been received in the General Congress, and by assurances 
from all parts that the cause of Boston would be made the common 
cause of America. " It is surprising," writes General Gage, "that 
so many of the other provinces interest themselves so much in this. 
They have some warm friends in New York, and I learn that the 
people of Charleston, South Carolina, are as mad as they are here." 

Among other portentous signs, war-hawks began to appear above 
the horizon. Mrs. Cushing, wife to a member of Congress, writes 
to her husband. "Two of the greatest military characters of the 
day are visiting this distressed town. General Charles Lee, who 
has served in Poland, and Colonel Israel Putnam, whose bravery 
and character need no description." As these two men will take a 
prominent part in coming events, we pause to give a word or two 
concerning them. Israel Putnam was a soldier of native growth. 
One of the military productions of the French war ; seasoned and 
proved in frontier campaigning. He had served at Louisburg, 
Fort Duquesne, and Crown Point; had signalized himself in In- 
dian warfare ; been captured by the savages, tied to a stake to be 
tortured and burned, and had only been rescued by the interfer- 
ence, at the eleventh hour, of a French partisan of the Indians. 
Since the peace, he had returned to agricultural life, and was now 
a farmer at Pomfret, in Connecticut, where the scars of his 
wounds and the tales of his exploits rendered him a hero in popular 
estimation. The war spirit yet burned within him. He was now 
chairman of a committee of vigilance, and had come to Boston in 
discharge of his pohtical and semi-belligerent functions. 

General Charles Lee was a military man of a different stamp ; 
an Englishman by birth, and a highly cultivated production of 
European warfare. He was the son of a British officer, Lieuten- 
ant-Colonel John Lee, of the dragoons, who manied the daughter 
of Sir Henry Bunbury, Bart., and afterward rose to be a general. 
Lee was born in 1731, and may almost be said to have been 
cradled in the army, for he received a commission by the time he 
was eleven years of age. He had an irregular education ; part of 
the time in England, part on the continent, and must have 
scrambled his way into knowledge : yet by aptness, diligence and 
ambition, he had acquired a considerable portion, being a Greek 



152 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and Latin scholar, and acquainted with modern languages. The 
art of war was his especial study from his boyhood, and he had 
early opportunities of practical experience. At the age of twenty- 
four, he commanded a company of grenadiers in the 44th 
regiment, and served in the French war in America, where he was 
brought into military companionship with Sir William Johnson's 
Mohawk warriors, whom he used to extol for their manly beauty, 
their dress, their graceful carriage and good breeding. In fact, he 
rendered himself so much of a favorite among them, that they 
admitted him to smoke in their councils, and adopted him into the 
tribe of the Bear, giving him an Indian name, signifying "Boiling 
Water." At the battle of Ticonderoga, where Abercrombie was 
defeated, he was shot through the body, while leading his men 
against the French breastworks. In the next campaign, he was 
present at the siege of Fort Niagara, where General Prideaux fell, 
and where Sir William Johnson, with his British troops and 
Mohawk warriors eventually won the fortress. Lee had, probably, 
an opportunity on this occasion of fighting side by side with some 
of his adopted brethren of the Bear tribe, as we are told he was 
much exposed during the engagement with the French and 
Indians, and that two balls grazed his hair. A military errand, 
afterward, took him across Lake Erie, and down the northern 
branch of the Ohio to Fort Duquesne, and thence by a long march 
of seven hundred miles to Crown Point, where he joined General 
Amherst. In 1760, he was among the forces which followed that 
general form Lake Ontario down the St. Lawrence ; and was 
present at the surrender of Montreal, which completed the con- 
quest of Canada. He now determined to offer his services to 
Poland, supposed to be on the verge of a war. He was well 
received by Frederick the Great, and had several conversations 
with him, chiefly on American affairs. At Warsaw, his military 
reputation secured him the favor of Poniatowsky, recently elected 
king of Poland, with the name of Stanislaus Augustus, who 
admitted him to his table, and made him one of his aides-de-camp. 
He for some time led a restless life about Europe — visidng Italy, 
Sicily, Malta, and the south of Spain ; troubled with attacks of 
rheumatism, gout, and the effects of a "Hungarian fever." He 
had become more and more cynical and irascible, and had more 
than one "affair of honor," in one of which he killed his antag- 
onist. His splenetic feehngs, as well as his political sentiments, 
were occasionally vented in severe attacks upon the ministry, full 
of irony and sarcasm. They appeared in the public journals, and 
gained him such reputation, that even the papers of Junius were by 
some attributed to him. 

In the questions which had risen between England and her 
colonies, he had strongly advocated the cause of the latter ; and it 
was the feehngs thus excited, and the recollections, perhaps, of his 
early campaigns, that brought him to America, in the latter part 
of 1773. His caustic attacks upon the ministry ; his conversational 

Eowers and his poignant sallies, had gained him great reputation ; 
ut his military renov/n rendered him especially interesting at the 



1774] PROVINCIAL CONGRESS AT CONCORD. 153 

present juncture. A general, who had served in the famous cam- 
paigns of Europe, commanded Cossacks, fought with Turks, talked 
with Frederick the Great, and been aide-de-camp to the king of 
Poland, was a prodigious acquisition to the patriot cause ! On the 
other hand, his visit to Boston was looked upon with uneasiness by 
the British officers, who knew his adventurous character. It was 
surmised that he was exciting a spirit of revolt, with a view to put- 
ting himself at its head. 

Boston was the only place in Massachusetts that now contained 
British forces, and it had become the refuge of all the *' tories" of 
the province ; that is to say, of all those devoted to the British 
government. There was animosity between them and the principal 
inhabitants, among whom revolutionary principles prevailed. The 
town itself, almost insulated by nature, and surrounded by a hostile 
country, was like a place besieged. 

This semi-belligerent state of affairs in Massachusetts produced a 
general restlessness throughout the land. The weak-hearted 
apprehended coming troubles; the resolute prepared to brave them. 
Military measures, hitherto confined to New England, extended to 
the middle and southern provinces, and the roll of the drum 
resounded through the villages. Virginia was among the first to 
buckle on its armor. It had long been a custom among its inhabi- 
tants to form themselves into independent companies, equipped at 
their own expense, having their own peculiar uniform, and electing 
their own officers, though holding themselves subject to militia law. 
They had hitherto been self-disciplined ; but now they continually 
resorted to Washington for instruction and advice ; considering him 
the highest authority on military affairs. He was frequently called 
from home, therefore, in the course of the winter and spring, to 
different parts of the country to review independent companies, all 
of which were anxious to put themselves under his command as 
field-officer. Mount Vernon, therefore, again assumed a military 
tone as in former days, when he took his first lessons there in the 
art of war. He had his old campaigning associates with him occa- 
sionally. Dr. Craik and Captain Hugh Mercer, to talk of past scenes 
and discuss the possibility of future service. Mercer was already 
bestirring himself in disciphning the militia about Fredericksburg, 
where he resided. 

Two occasional and important guests at Mount Vernon, in this 
momentous crisis, were General Charles Lee, of whom we have 
just spoken, and Major Horatio Gates. As the latter is destined to 
occupy an important page in this memoir, we will give a few par- 
ticulars concerning him. He was an Englishman by birth, the son 
of a captain in the British army. He had received a liberal edu- 
cation, and, when but twenty-one years of age, had sensed as a 
volunteer under General Edward Cornwallis, Governor of Hahfax. 
He was afterward captain of a New York independent company, 
with which he marched in the campaign of Braddock, in which 
he was severely wounded. For two or three subsequent years he 
was with his company in the western part of the province of New 
York, receiving the appointment of brigade-major. He accom- 



154 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

panied General Monckton as aide-de-camp to the West Indies, and 
gained credit at the capture of Martinico. Thus several years 
were passed, partly with his family in retirement, partly in London, 
paying court to patrons and men in power, until, finding there was 
no likelihood of success, and having sold his commission and half- 
pay, he emigrated to Virginia in 1772, a disappointed man; pur- 
chased an estate in Berkeley County, beyond the Blue Ridge ; 
espoused the popular cause, and renewed his old campaigning 
acquaintance with Washington. He was now about forty-six years 
of age, of a florid complexion and goodly presence, though a little 
inclined to corpulency ; social, insinuating, and somewhat specious 
in his manners, with a strong degree of self-approbation. Lee, 
who was an old friend and former associate in arms, had recently 
been induced by him to purchase an estate in his neighborhood in 
Berkeley County, with a view to making it his abode, having a 
moderate competency, a claim to land on the Ohio, and the half- 
pay of a British colonel. Both of these officers, disappointed in 
the British service, looked forward probably to greater success in 
the patriot cause. 

Lee had been at Philadelphia since his visit to Boston, and had 
made himself acquainted with the leading members of Congress 
during the session. He was evidently cultivating an intimacy with 
every one likely to have influence in the approaching struggle. To 
Washington the visits of these gentlemen were extremely welcome 
at this juncture, from their military knowledge and experience, 
especially as much of it had been acquired in America, in the same 
kind of warfare, if not the very same campaigns in which he 
himself had mingled. Both were interested in the popular 
cause. Lee was full of plans for the organization and disciplining 
of the militia, and occasionally accompanied Washington in his 
attendance on provincial reviews. He was subsequently very 
efficient at AnnapoHs in promodng and superintending the organiza- 
tion of the Maryland militia. 

It is doubtful whether the visits of Lee were as interesting to Mrs. 
Washington as to the general. He was whimsical, eccentric, and 
at times almost rude ; negligent also, and slovenly in person and 
attire ; for though he had occasionally associated with kings and 
princes, he had also campaigned with Mohawks and Cossacks, and 
seems to have rehshed their "good breeding." What was still 
more annoying in a well regulated mansion, he was always followed 
by a legion of dogs, which shared his affections with his horses, 
and took their seats by him when at the table. " I must have some 
object to embrace," said he misanthropically. "When I can be 
convinced that men are as worthy objects as dogs, I shall transfer my 
benevolence, and become as staunch a philanthropist as the canting 
Addison affected to be." 

In the month of March the second Virginia convention was held 
at Richmond. Washington attended as delegate from Fairfax 
County. In this assembly, Patrick Henry, with his usual ardor 
and eloquence, advocated measures for embodying, arming and 
disciplining a miUtia force, and providing for the defence of the 



I775J A DISASTROUS TRIUMPH. I55 

colony. "It is useless," said he, "to address further petitions to 
government, or to await the effect of those already addressed to 
the throne. The time for suppHcation is past ; the time for action 
is at hand. We must fight, Air. Speaker, ' exclaimed he emphat- 
ically ; "I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms and 
to the God of Hosts, is all that is left us!" Washington joined 
him in the conviction, and was one of a committee that reported a 
plan for carrying those measures into effect. He was not an 
impulsive man to raise the battle cry, but the executive man to 
marshal the troops into the field and carry on the war. His 
brother, John Augustine, was raising and disciplining an independent 
company; Washington offered to accept the command of it, should 
occasion require it to be drawn out. He did the same with 
respect to an independent company at Richmond. " It is my full 
intention, if needful," writes he to his brother, ''to devote my life 
aud fortune to the cause.'* 

The troops at Boston had been augmented to about 4000 men. 
Gen. Gage resolved to surprise and destroy the magazine of miU- 
tary stores at Concord, about twenty miles from Boston. On the 
1 8th of April, officers were stationed on the roads leading from 
Boston, to prevent any intelligence of the expedition getting into 
the country. At night orders were issued by Gen, Gage, that no 
person should leave the town. About eight o'clock, from eight to 
nine hundred grenadiers, light infantry and marines, commanded 
by Lieut. Col. Smith, embarked in the boats at the foot of Boston 
Common, and crossed to Lechmere Point, in Cambridge, whence 
they were to march silently, and without beat of drum, to the place 
of destination. Dr. Joseph Warren, one of the committee of safety, 
sent notice of these movements to John Hancock and Samuel 
Adams, at that time sojourning with a friend at Lexington. The 
committee of safety ordered that the cannon at Concord should be 
secreted, and part of the stores removed. On the night of the i8th, 
Dr. Warren sent off two messengers by different routes to give the 
alarm. A lantern was hung out of an upper window of the next 
church, in the direction of Charlestown, this was a preconcerted 
signal to the patriots of that place, who instantly despatched swift 
messengers to rouse the country. In the meantime Col. Smith had 
proceeded but a few miles on his nocturnal march by an unfre- 
quented path across marshes, where at times the troops had to wade 
through water, when alarm guns, booming through the night air, 
and the clang of village bells, showed that the news of his approach 
was travelling before him, and the people were rising. He now 
sent back to Gen. Gage for reinforcements, while Major Pitcairn 
was detached with six companies, and advanced rapidly, capturing 
every one that he met, or overtook. Within a mile and a half of 
Lex\ngton, however, a horseman was too quick on the spur for him, 
and galloping to the village, gave the alarm that the red coats 
were coming. Drums were beaten ; guns fired. By the time that 
Pitcairn entered the village, about seventy or eighty of the yeo- 
manry, in military aiTay, were mustered on the green near the 
church. It was a part of the "constitutional army," pledged to 



156 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

resist, by force, any open hostility. Pitcairn halted his men within 
a short distance of the church, and ordered his men to prime and 
load. They then advanced at double quick time. The Major, 
riding forward, waved his sword, and ordered the " rebels," as he 
termed them, to disperse. Other of the officers echoed his words 
as they advanced : " Disperse, ye villains! Lay down your arms, 
ye rebels, and disperse ! " The order was disregarded. A scene 
of confusion ensued, with firing on both sides ; which party com- 
menced it, has been a matter of dispute. Pitcairn always main- 
tained that he turned to order his men to draw out and surround 
the militia, when he saw a flash in the pan from the gun of a coun- 
tryman posted behind a wall, and almost instantly the report of 
two or three muskets, which he supposed to be from the Americans, 
as his horse was wounded, as was also a soldier close by him. 
His troops rushed on, though, as he declared, he made repeated 
signals with his sword for his men to forbear. 

The firing of the Americans was irregular, and without much 
effect ; that of the Bridsh was more fatal. Eight of the patriots 
were killed, and ten wounded, and the whole put to flight. The 
victors formed on the common, fired a volley, and gave three 
cheers for one of the most inglorious and disastrous triumphs ever 
achieved by British arms. Colonel Smith soon arrived with the 
residue of the detachment, and they all marched on toward Con- 
cord, about six miles distant. The alarm had reached that place 
in the dead hour of the preceding night. The church bell roused 
the inhabitants. They gathered together in anxious consultation. 
The militia and minute men seized their arms, and repaired to the 
parade ground, near the church. Here they were subsequently 
joined by armed yeomanry from Lincoln, and elsewhere. Exer- 
tions w-ere now made to remove and conceal the military stores. A 
scout, who had been sent out for intelligence, brought word that 
the British had fired upon the people at Lexington, and were 
advancing upon Concord. There was great excitement and indig- 
nation. Part of the militia marched down the Lexington road to 
meet them, but returned, reporting their force to be three times 
that of the Americans. The w4iole of the militia now retired to an 
eminence about a mile from the center of the town, and formed 
themselves into two battahons. 

About seven o'clock, the British came in sight, advancing with 
quick step, their arms glittering in the morning sun. They entered 
in two divisions by different roads. Concord is traversed by a 
river of the same name, having two bridges, the north and the 
south. The grenadiers and light infantry took post in the center of 
the town, while strong parties of hght troops w^ere detached to 
secure the bridges, and destroy the military stores. Two hours 
were expended in the work of destruction without much success, 
so much of the stores having been removed, or concealed. During 
all this time the yeomanry from the neighboring towns w^ere hurry- 
ing in with such weapons as were at hand, and joining the mihtia on 
the heights, until the little cloud of war gathering there numbered 
about four hundred and fifty. 



1775] THE BRITISH CHASED FROM CONCORD. 157 

About ten o'clock, a body of three hundred undertook to dis- 
lodge the British from the north bridge. As they approached, the 
latter fired upon them, killing two, and wounding a third. The 
patriots returned the fire with spirit and effect. The British 
retreated to the main body, the Americans pursuing them across 
the bridge. 

By this time all the military stores which could be found had 
been destroyed ; Colonel Smith, therefore, made preparations for a 
retreat. The scattered troops were collected, the dead were buried, 
and conveyances procured for the wounded. About noon he com- 
menced his retrograde march for Boston. It was high time. His 
troops were jaded by the night march, and the morning's toils and 
skirmishings. The country was thoroughly alarmed. The yeo- 
manry were hurrying from every quarter to the scene of action. 
As the British began their retreat, the Americans began the work 
of sore and galling retaUation. Along the open road, the former 
were harassed incessantly by rustic marksmen, who took deliberate 
aim from behind trees, or over stone fences. Where the road 
passed through woods, the British found themselves between two 
fires, dealt by unseen foes, the minute men having posted 
themselves on each side among the bushes. It was in vain they 
threw out flankers, and endeavored to dislodge their assailants ; 
each pause gave time for other pursuers to come within reach, 
and open attacks from different quarters. For several miles they 
urged their way along woody defiles, or roads skirted with fences 
and stone walls, the retreat growing more and more disastrous ; 
some were shot down, some gave out through mere exhaustion ; 
the rest hurried on, without stopping to aid the fatigued, or 
wounded. Before reaching Lexington, Colonel Smith received a 
severe wound in the leg, and the situation of the retreating troops 
was becoming extremely critical, w^hen, about two o'clock, they 
were met by Lord Percy, with a brigade of one thousand men, 
and two field-pieces. His lordship had been detached from 
Boston about nine o'clock by General Gage, in compliance with 
Colonel Smith's urgent call for a reinforcement, and had marched 
gayly through Roxbury to the tune of "Yankee Doodle," in 
derision of the "rebels." He now found the latter a more 
formidable foe than he had anticipated. Opening his brigade to 
the right and left, he received the retreating troops into a hollow 
square ; where, fainting and exhausted, they threw themselves on 
the ground to rest. His lordship showed no disposition to advance 
upon their assailants, but contented himself with keeping them at 
bay with his field-pieces, which opened a vigorous fire from an 
eminence. 

Hitherto the Provincials, being hasty levies, without a leader, 
had acted from individual impulse, without much concert ; but 
now General Heath was upon the ground. He was one of those 
authorized to take command when the minute men should be called 
out. That class of combatants promptly obeyed his orders, and 
he was efficacious in rallying them, and bringing them into military 
order, when checked and scattered by the fire of the field-pieces. 



158 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

Dr. Warren, also, arrived on horseback, having spurred from 
Boston on receiving news of the skirmishing. In the subsequent 
part of the day, he was one of the most active and efficient men in 
the field. His presence, hke that of General Heath, regulated the 
infuriated ardor of the militia, and brought it into system. 

Lord Percy, having allowed the troops a short interval for repose 
and refreshment, continued the retreat toward Boston. As soon 
as he got under march, the galling assault by the pursuing yeo- 
manry was recommenced in flank and rear. The British soldiery, 
irritated in turn, acted as if in an enemy's country. Houses and 
shops were burned down in Lexington ; private dwellings along 
the road were plundered, and their inhabitants maltreated. In one 
instance, an unoffending invalid was wantonly slain in his own house. 
All this increased the exasperation of the yeomanry. There was 
occasional sharp skirmishing, with bloodshed on both sides, but in 
general a dogged pursuit, where the retreating troops were galled 
at every step. Their march became more and more impeded by 
the number of their wounded. Lord Percy narrowly escaped 
death from a musket-ball, which struck off a buttorh of his waist- 
coat. One of his officers remained behind wounded in West Cam- 
bridge. His ammunition was failing as he approached Charles- 
town. The provincials pressed upon him in rear, others were 
advancing from Roxbury, Dorchester, and Milton ; Colonel 
Pickering, with the Essex militia, seven hundred strong, was at 
band ; there was danger of being intercepted in the retreat to 
Charlestown. The field-pieces were again brought into play, to 
check the ardor of the pursuit ; but they were no longer objects of 
terror. The sharpest firing of the provincials was near Prospect 
Hill, as the harassed enemy hurried along the Charlestown road, 
eager to reach the Neck, and get under cover of their ships. The 
pursuit terminated a little after sunset, at Charlestown Common, 
where General Heath brought the minute men to a halt. Within 
half an hour more, a powerful body of men, from Marblehead and 
Salem, came up to join in the chase. "If the retreat," writes 
Washington, "had not been as precipitate as it was — and God 
knows it could not well have been more so — the ministerial troops 
must have surrendered, or been totally cut off." 

The distant firing from the mainland had reached the British at 
Boston. The troops which, in the morning, had marched through 
Roxbury, to the tune of Yankee Doodle, might have been seen at 
sunset, hounded along the old Cambridge road to Charlestown 
Neck, by mere armed yeomanry. Gage was astounded at the 
catastrophe. It was but a short time previous that one of his 
officers, in writing to friends in England, scoffed at the idea of the 
Americans taking up arms. " Whenever it comes to blows," said 
he, " he that can run the fastest, will think himself well off, believe 
me. Any two regiments here ought to be decimated, if they did 
not beat in the field the whole force of the Massachusetts province." 
How frequently, throughout this Revolution, had the English to 
pay the penalty of thus undervaluing the spirit they were provok- 
ing! 



1775] VIRGINIA IN COMBUSTION. 159 

In this memorable affair, the British loss was seventy-three 
killed, one hundred and seventy-four wounded, and twenty-six 
missing. Among the slain were eighteen officers. The loss of the 
Americans was forty-nine killed, thirty-nine wounded, and five 
missing. This was the first blood shed in the revolutionary strug- 
gle ; a mere drop in amount, but a deluge in its effects — rending 
the colonies forever from the mother country. 

The cry of blood from the field of Lexington went through the 
land. None felt the appeal more than the old soldiers of the 
French war. It roused John Stark, of New Hampshire — a trapper 
and hunter in his youth, a veteran in Indian warfare, a campaigner 
under Abercrombie and Amherst, now the military oracle of a 
rustic neighborhood. Within ten minutes after receiving the 
alarm, he was spurring toward the sea-coast, and on the way 
stirring up the volunteers of the Massachusetts borders, to assemble 
forthwith at Bedford, in the vicinity of Boston. 

Equally alert was his old comrade in frontier exploits. Colonel 
Israel Putnam. A man on horseback, with a drum, passed 
through his neighborhood in Connecticut, proclaiming British 
violence at Lexington. Putnam was in the field plowing, assisted 
by his son. In an instant the team was unyoked ; the plow left in 
the furrow ; the lad sent home to give word of his father's depart- 
ure ; and Putnam, on horseback, in his working garb, urging with 
all speed to the camp. Such was the spirit aroused throughout the 
country. The sturdy yeomanry, from all parts, were hastening 
toward Boston with such weapons as were at hand ; and happy 
was he who could command a rusty fowling-piece and a powder- 
horn. 

The news reached Vij;ginia at a critical moment. Lord Dun- 
more, obeying a general order issued by the ministry to all the 
provincial governors, had seized upon the military munitions of the 
province. Here was a similar measure to that of Gage. The cry 
went forth that the subjugation of the colonies was to be attempted. 
All Virginia was in combustion. The standard of hberty was 
reared in every county ; there was a general cry to arms. Wash- 
ington was looked to, from various quarters, to take command. 
His old comrade in arms, Hugh Mercer, was about marching down 
to Williamsburg at the head of a body of resolute men, seven hun- 
dred strong, entitled '*The friends of constitutional liberty and 
America^" whom he had organized and drilled in Fredericksburg, 
and nothing but a timely concession of Lord Dunmore, with respect 
to some powder which he had seized, prevented his being beset in 
his palace. 

Washington was at Mount Vernon, preparing to set out for Phila- 
delphia as a delegate to the second Congress, when he received 
tidings of the affair at Lexington, Bryan Fairfax and Major 
Horatio Gates were his guests at the time. They all regarded the 
event as decisive in its consequences ; but they regarded it with 
different feelings. The worthy and gentle-spirited Fairfax deplored 
it deeply. He foresaw that it must break up all his pleasant rela- 
tions in life ; arraying his dearest friends against the government to 



i6o LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

which, notwithstanding the errors of its pohcy, he was loyally- 
attached and resolved to adhere. Gates, on the contrary, viewed 
it with the eye of a soldier and a place-hunter — hitherto disap- 
pointed in both capacities. This event promised to open a new 
avenue to importance and command, and he determined to enter 
upon it. 

Washington's feelings were of a mingled nature. They may be 
gathered from a letter to his friend and neighbor, George William 
Fairfax, then in England, in which he lays the blame of this 
" deplorable affair" on the ministry and their military agents; and 
concludes with the following words, in which the yearnings of the 
patriot give affecting solemnity to the implied resolve of the sol- 
dier: " Unhappy it is to reflect that a brother's sword has been 
sheathed in a brother's breast ; and that the once happy and peace- 
ful plains of America are to be either drenched with blood or 
inhabited by slaves. Sad alternative ! But can a virtuous man 
hesitate iti his choice ? " 

At the eastward, the march of the Revolution went on with 
accelerated speed. Thirty thousand men had been deemed neces- 
sary for the defence of the country. The provincial Congress of 
Massachusetts resolved to raise thirteen thousand six hundred, as 
its quota. Circular letters, also, were issued by the committee of 
safety, urging the towns to enlist troops with all speed, and calling 
for military aid from the other New England provinces. 

Their appeals were promptly answered. Bodies of militia and 
parties of volunteers from New Hampshire, Rhode Island and Con- 
necticut, hastened to join the minute men of Massachusetts in 
forming a camp in the neighborhood of Boston. With the troops 
of Connecticut came Israel Putnam ; having recently raised a 
regiment in that province, and received from its Assembly the com- 
mission of brigadier-general. Some of his old comrades in French 
and Indian warfare had hastened to join his standard. Such were 
two of his captains, Durkee and Knowlton. The latter, who was 
his especial favorite, had fought by his side when a mere boy. 

The command of the camp was given to General ArtemasWard, 
already mentioned. He was a native of Shrewsbury, in Massa- 
chusetts, and a veteran of the seven years* war — having served as 
lieutenant-colonel under Abercrombie. He had, likewise, been a 
member of the legislative bodies, and had recently been made, by 
the provincial Congress of Massachusetts, commander-in-chief of 
its forces. 

As affairs were now drawing to a crisis, and war was considered 
inevitable, some bold spirits in Connecticut conceived a project for 
the outset. This was the surprisal of the old forts of Ticonderoga 
and Crown Point, already famous in the French war. Their situ- 
ation on Lake Champlain gave them the command of the main 
route to Canada ; so that the possession of them would be all- 
important in case of hostilities. They were feebly garrisoned and 
negligently guarded, and abundantly furnished with artillery and 
military stores, so much needed by the patriot army. 

This scheme was set on foot in the purlieus, as it were, of the 



1 775-] SCHEME TO SURPRISE TICONDEROGA. i6i 

provincial Legislature of Connecticut, then in session. It was not 
openly sanctioned by that body, but secretly favored, and money 
lent from the treasury to those engaged in it. A committee was 
appointed, also, to accompany them to the frontier, aid them in 
raising troops, and exercise over them a degree of superintend- 
ence and control. 

Sixteen men were thus enlisted in Connecticut, a greater number 
in Massachusetts, but the greatest accession of force was from what 
was called the " New Hampshire Grants." This was a region hav- 
ing the Connecticut River on one side, and Lake Champlain and 
the Hudson River on the other — being, in fact, the country form- 
ing the present State of Vermont. It had long been a disputed 
territory, claimed by New York and New Hampshire. George II. 
had decided in favor of New York ; but the Governor of New 
Hampshire had made grants of between one and two hundred 
townships in it, whence it had acquired the name of the New 
Hampshire Grants. The settlers on those grants resisted the 
attempts of New York to eject them, and formed themselves into 
an association, called " The Green Mountain Boys." Resolute, 
strong-handed fellows they were, with Ethan Allen at their head, a 
native of Connecticut, but brought up among the Green Moun- 
tains. He and his lieutenants, Seth Warner and Remember Baker, 
were outlawed by the Legislature of New York, and rewards 
offered for their apprehension. They and their associates armed 
themselves, set New York at defiance, and swore they would be 
the death of any one who should attempt their arrest. 

Thus Ethan Allen was becoming a kind of Robin Hood among 
the mountains, when the present crisis changed the relative posi- 
tion of things as if by magic. Boundary feuds were forgotten 
amid the great questions of colonial rights. Ethan Allen at once 
stepped forward, a patriot, and volunteered with his Green Moun- 
tain Boys to serve in the popular cause. He was well fitted for the 
enterprise in question, by his experience as a frontier champion, 
his robustness of mind and body, and his fearless spirit. He had 
a kind of rough eloquence, also, that was very effective with his 
followers. "His style," says one, who knew him p)ersonally, 
"was a singular compound of local barbaiisms, scriptural phrases, 
and oriental wildness; and though unclassic, and sometimes 
ungrammatical, was highly animated and forcible." Washington, 
in one of his letters, says there was " an original something in him 
which commanded admiration." 

Thus reinforced, the party, now two hundred and seventy strong, 
pushed forward to Castleton, a place within a few miles of the head 
of Lake Champlain. Here a council of war was held on the 2d 
of May. Ethan Allen was placed at the head of the expedition, 
with James Easton and Seth Warner as second and third in com- 
mand. Detachments were sent off to Skenesborough (now White- 
hall), and another place on the lake, with orders to seize all the 
boats they could find and bring them to Shoreham, opposite 
Ticonderoga, whither Allen prepared to proceed with the main 
body. 
6 



i62 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

At this juncture, another adventurous spirit arrived at Castleton. 
This was Benedict Arnold, since so sadly renowned. He, too, had 
conceived the project of surprising Ticonderoga and Crow n Point ; 
or, perhaps, had caught the idea from its first agitators in Connect- 
icut — in the militia of which province he held a captain's commis- 
sion. He had proposed the scheme to the Massachusetts commit- 
tee of safety. It had met with their approbation. They had given 
him a colonel's commission, authorized him to raise a force in 
Western Massachusetts, not exceeding four hundred men, and fur- 
nished him with money and means. Arnold had enlisted but a 
few officers and men when he heard of the expedition from Con- 
necticut being on the march. He instantly hurried on with one 
attendant to overtake it, leaving his few recruits to follow, as best 
they could : in this way he reached Castleton just after the council 
of war. 

Producing the colonel's commission received from the Massa- 
chusetts committee of safety, he now aspired to the supreme com- 
mand. His claims were disregarded by the Green Mountain Boys; 
they would follow no leader but Ethan Allen. As they formed the 
majority of the party, Arnold was fain to acquiesce, and serve as a 
volunteer, with the rank, but not the command, of colonel. 

The party arrived at Shoreham, opposite Ticonderoga, on the 
night of the 9th of May. The detachment sent in quest of boats 
had failed to arrive. There were a few boats at hand, Avith which 
the transportation was commenced. It was slow work ; the night 
wore away ; day was about to break, and but eighty-three men, 
with Allen and Arnold, had crossed. Should they wait for the 
residue, day would dawn, the garrison wake, and their enterprise 
might fail. Allen drew up his men, addressed them in his own 
emphatic style, and announced his intention to make a dash at the 
fort, without waiting for more force. " It is a desperate attempt," 
said he, " and I ask no man to go against his will. I will take the 
lead, and be the first to advance. You that are willing to follow, 
poise your firelocks." Not a firelock but was poised. They 
mounted the hill briskly, but in silence, guided by a boy from the 
neighborhood. The day dawned as Allen arrived at a sally-port. 
A sentry pulled trigger on him, but his piece missed fire. He 
retreated through a covered way. Allen and his men followed. 
Another sentry thrust at Easton with his bayonet, but was struck 
down by Allen, and begged for quarter. It was granted on condi- 
tion of his leading the way instantly to the quarters of the com- 
mandant, Captain Delaplace, who Avas yet in bed. Being arrived 
there, Allen thundered at the door, and demanded a surrender of 
the fort. By this time his followers had formed into two lines on 
the parade-ground, and given three hearty cheers. The command- 
ant appeared at his door half-dressed, "the frightened face of his 
pretty wife peering over his shoulder." He gazed at Allen in 
bewildered astonishments " By whose authority do you act?" 
exclaimed he. •• In the name of the great Jehovah, and the Con- 
tinental Congress! " replied Allen, with a flourish of his sword, and 
an oath which we do not care to subjoin. There was no disputing 
6 



1775-] BENEDICT ARNOLD. 163 

the point. The garrison, like the commander, had been startled 
from sleep, and made prisoners as they rushed forth in their con- 
fusion. A surrender accordingly took place. The captain, and 
forty-eight men, which composed his garrison, were sent prisoners 
to Hartford, in Connecticut- A great supply of military and naval 
stores, so important in the present crisis, was found in the fortress. 

Colonel Seth Warner, who had brought over the residue of the 
party from Shoreham, was now sent with a detachment against 
Crown Point, which surrendered on the 12th of May without fir- 
ii^g 3. gun ; the whole garrison being a sergeant and twelve men. 
Here were taken upward of a hundred cannon. 

Arnold now insisted vehemently on his right to command Ti- 
conderoga ; being, as he said, the only officer invested with legal 
authority. His claims had again to yield to the superior popularity 
of Ethan Allen, to whom the Connecticut committee, which had 
accompanied the enterprise, gave an instrument in writing, invest- 
ing him with the command of the fortress, and its dependencies, 
until he should receive the orders of the Connecticut Assembly, or 
the Continental Congress. Arnold, while forced to acquiesce, sent 
a protest, and a statement of his grievances to the Massachusetts 
Legislature. In the mean time, his chagrin was appeased by a 
new object. The detachment originally sent to seize upon boats 
at Skenesborough, arrived with a schooner, and several bateaux. 
It was immediately concerted between Allen and Arnold to cruise 
in them down the lake, and surprise St. John's, on the Sorel River, 
the frontier post of Canada. The schooner was accordingly armed 
with cannon from the fort. Arnold, who had been a seaman in his 
youth, took the command of her, while Allen and his Green Moun- 
tain Boys embarked in the bateaux. Arnold outsailed the other 
craft, and arriving at St. John's surprised and made prisoners of a 
sergeant and twelve men ; captured a king's sloop of seventy tons, 
with two brass six-pounders and seven men ; took four bateaux, 
destroyed several others, and then, learning that troops were on 
the way from Montreal and Chamblee, spread all his sails to a favoring 
breeze, and swept up the lake with his prizes and prisoners, and 
some valuable stores, which he had secured. He had not sailed 
far when he met Ethan Allen and the bateaux. Salutes were 
exchanged; cannon on one side, musketry on the other. Allen 
boarded the sloop ; learned from Arnold the particulars of his 
success, and determined to push on, take possession of St. John's, 
and garrison it with one hundred of his Green Mountain Boys. 
He was foiled in the attempt by the superior force which arrived ; 
so he returned to his station at Ticonderoga. 

Thus a partisan band, unpracticed in the art of war, had, by a 
series of daring exploits and almost without the loss of a man, won 
for the patriots the command of Lake George and Champlain, and 
thrown open the great highway to Canada. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

WASHINGTON APPOINTED COMMANDER IN CHIEF. 

The second General Congress assembled at Philadelphia on the 
loth of May. Peyton Randolph was again elected as president ; 
but being obliged to return, and occupy his place as speaker of the 
Virginia Assembly, John Hancock, of Massachusetts, was elevated 
to the chair. 

A lingering feeling of attachment to the mother country, strug- 
gling with the growing spirit of self-government, was manifested in 
the proceedings of this remarkable body. Many of those most 
active in vindicating colonial rights, and Washington among the 
number, still indulged the hope of an eventual reconciliation, while 
few entertained, or, at least, avowed the idea of complete independ- 
ence. 

A second "humble and dutiful " petition to the king was moved, 
but met with strong opposition. John Adams condemned it as an 
imbecile measure, calculated to embarrass the proceedings of 
Congress. He was for prompt and vigorous action. Other 
members concurred with him. Indeed, the measure itself seemed 
but a mere form, intended to reconcile the half-scrupulous ; for 
subsequently, Avhen it was carried. Congress, in face of it, went on 
to assume and exercise the powers of a sovereign authority. A 
federal union was formed, leaving to each colony the right of 
regulating its internal affairs according to its own individual con- 
stitution, but vesting in Congress the power of making peace or 
war ; of entering into treaties and alliances ; of regulating general 
commerce ; in a word, of legislating on all such matters as 
regarded the security and welfare of the whole community. 

The executive power was to be vested in a council of twelve, 
chosen by Congress from among its own members, and to hold ofifice 
for a limited time. Such colonies as had not sent delegates to Con- 
gress, might yet become members of the confederacy by agreeing to 
its conditions. Georgia, which had hitherto hesitated, soon joined 
the league, which thus extended from Nova Scotia to Florida. 

Congress ordered the enlistment of troops, the construction of 
forts in \-arious parts of the colonies, the provision of arms, 
ammunition, and military stores ; while to defray the expense of 
these, and other measures, avowedly of self-defence, they author- 
ized the emission of notes to the amount of three millions of dollars, 
bearing the inscription of "The United Colonies;" the faith of the 
confederacy being pledged for their redemption. The public 
sense of Washington's military talents and experience was evinced 
in his being chairman of all the committees appointed for military 
affairs. Most of the rules and regulations for the army, and the 
measures of defence, were devised by him. 



I775-] WASHINGTON COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF. 165 

The situation of the New England army, actually besieging 
Boston, became an early and absorbing consideration. It was 
without munitions of war, without arms, clothing or pay ; in fact, 
without legislative countenance or encouragement. Unless sanc- 
tioned and assisted by Congress, there was danger of its dissolu- 
tion. The disposition to uphold the army was general ; but the 
difficult question was, who should be commander-in-chief? Adams, 
in his diary, gives us glimpses of the conflict of opinions and interests 
within doors. There was a southern party, he said, which could 
not brook the idea of a New England army, commanded by a New 
England general. "Whether this jealousy was sincere, " writes 
he, "or whether it was mere pride, and a haughty ambition of 
furnishing a southern general to command the northern army, I can- 
not say ; but the intention was very visible to me, that Colonel 
Washington was their object ; and so many of our stanchest men 
were in the plan, that we could carry nothing without conceding 
to it." 

General Charles Lee was at that time in Philadelphia. His for- 
mer visit had made him well acquainted with the leading members 
of Congress. The active interest he had manifested in the cause 
was well known, and the public had an almost extravagant idea of 
his military qualifications. He was of foreign birth, however, and 
it was deemed improper to confide the supreme command to any 
but a native-born American. The opinion evidently inclined in 
favor of Washington ; yet it was promoted by no clique of parti- 
sans or admirers. More than one of the Virginia delegates, says 
Adams, were cool on the subject of this appointment ; and partic- 
ularly Mr. Pendleton was clear and full against it. It is scarcely 
necessary to add, that Washington in this, as in every other situation 
in life, made no step in advance to clutch the impending honor. 
Adams, in his diary, claims the credit of bringing the members of 
Congress to a decision. Rising in his place, one day, and stating 
briefly, but earnestly, the exigencies of the case, he moved that 
Congress should adopt the army at Cambridge, and appoint a gen- 
eral. Though this was not the time to nominate the person, "yet," 
adds he, " as I had reason to beheve this was a point of some diffi- 
culty, I had no hesitation to declare, that I had but one gentleman 
in my mind for that important command, and that was a gentle- 
man from Virginia, who was among us and very well known to all 
of us ; a gentleman, whose skill and experience as an officer, 
whose independent fortune, great talents, and excellent universal 
character would command the approbation of all America, and 
unite the cordial exertions of all the colonies better than any other 
person in the Union. Mr. Washington, who happened to sit near 
the door, as soon as he heard me allude to him, from his usual 
modesty, darted into the library-room. When the subject came 
under debate, several delegates opposed the appointment of Wash- 
inton ; not from personal objections, but because the army were all 
from New England, and had a general of their own, General Arte- 
mus Ward, with whom they appeared well satisfied ; and under 
■whose command they had proved themselves able to imprison the 



i66 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

British army in Boston ; which was all that was to be expected or 
desired." 

The subject was postponed to a future day. In the interim, 
pains were taken out of doors to obtain a unanimity, and the voices 
were in general so clearly in favor of Washington, that the dis- 
sentient members were persuaded to withdraw their opposition. 
On the 15th of June, the army was regularly adopted by Con- 
gress, and the pay of the commander-in-chief fixed at five hun- 
dred dollars a month. Many still clung to the idea, that in all 
these proceedings they were merely opposing the measures of the 
ministry, and not the authority of the crown, and thus the army 
before Boston was designated as the Continental Army, in contra- 
distinction to that under General Gage, which was called the Min- 
isterial Army. 

In this stage of the business Mr. Johnson, of Maryland, rose, 
and nominated Washington for the station of commander-in-chief. 
The election was by ballot, and was unanimous. It was form- 
ally announced to him by the president, on the following day, 
when he had taken his seat in Congress. Rising in his place, he 
briefly expressed his high and grateful sense of the honor conferred 
on him, and his sincere devotion to the cause. " But," added he, 
"lest some unlucky event should happen unfavorable to my repu- 
tation, I beg it may be remembered by every gentleman in the 
room, that 1 this day declare, with the utmost sincerity, I do not 
think myself equal to the command I am honored with. As to 
pay, I beg leave to assure the Congress that, as no pecuniary con- 
sideration could have tempted me to accept this arduous employ- 
ment, at the expense of my domestic ease and happiness, I do not 
wish to make any profit of it. I will keep an exact account of 
my expenses. Those, I doubt not, they will discharge, and that is 
all I desire." 

'• There is something charming to me in the conduct of Wash- 
ington," writes Adams to a friend ; " a gentleman of one of the 
first fortunes upon the continent, leaving his delicious retirement, 
his family and his friends, sacrificing his ease, and hazarding all 
in the cause of his country. His views are noble and disinterested." 

Four major-generals were to be appointed. General Ward was 
elected the second in command, and Lee the third. The other 
two major-generals were Philip Schuyler, of New York, and Israel 
Putnam, of Connecticut. Eight brigadier-generals were likewise 
appointed ; Seth Pomeroy, Richard Montgomery, David Wooster, 
Wilham Heath, Joseph Spencer, John Thomas, John Sullivan, and 
Nathaniel Greene. At Washington's express request, his old 
friend. Major Horatio Gates, then absent at his estate in Virginia, 
was appointed adjutant-general, with the rank of brigadier. 
Adams, according to his own account, was extremely loth to admit 
either Lee or Gates into the American service, although he consid- 
ered them officers of great experience and confessed abilities. He 
apprehended difficulties, he said, from the "natural prejudices and 
virtuous attachment of our countrymen to their own officers." 
*'But," added he, "considering the earnest desire of General 



1775] THE BESIEGING ARMY. 167 

Washington to have the assistance of those officers, the extreme 
attachment of many of our best friends in the southern colonies to 
them, the reputation they would give to our arms in Europe, and 
especially with the ministerial generals and army in Boston, as 
well as the real American merit of both, I could not withhold my 
vote from either." 

In this momentous change in his condition, which suddenly al- 
tered all his course of life, and called him immediately to the 
camp, Washington's thoughts recurred to Mount Vernon, and its 
rural delights, so dear to his heart, whence he was to be again ex- 
iled. His chief concern, however, was on account of the distress 
it might cause to his wife. His letter to her on the subject is writ- 
ten in a tone of manly tenderness. "You may believe me," writes 
he, "when I assure you, in the most solemn manner, that so far 
from seeking this appointment, I have used every endeavor in my 
power to avoid it, not only from my unwilhngness to part with you 
and the family, but from a consciousness of its being a trust too 
great for my capacity ; and I should enjoy more real happiness in 
one month with you at home than I have the most distant prospect 
of finding abroad, if my stay were to be seven times seven years. But 
as it has been a kind of destiny that has thrown me upon this ser- 
vice, I shall hope that my undertaking it is designed to answer 
some good purpose. * * "I shall rely confidently on that Prov- 
idence which has heretofore preserved, and been bountiful to me, 
not doubting but that I shall return safe to you in the Fall. I 
shall feel no pain from the toil or danger of the campaign ; my 
unhappiness will flow from the uneasiness I know you will feel 
from being left alone." 

On the 20th of June, he received his commission from the presi- 
dent of Congress. The following day was fixed upon for his de- 
parture for the army. He reviewed previously, at the request of 
their officers, several militia companies of horse and foot. Every 
one was anxious to see the new commander, and rarely has the 
public beau ideal of a commander been so fully answered. He 
was now in the vigor of his days, forty-three years of age, stately 
in person, noble in his demeanor, calm and dignified in his deport- 
ment; as he sat his horse, with manly grace, his miUtary presence 
delighted every eye, and wherever he went the air rang with ac- 
clamations. 

While Congress had been deliberating on the adoption of the 
army, and the nomination of a commander-in-chief, events had 
been thickening and drawing to a crisis in the excited region about 
Boston. The provincial troops which blockaded the town prevent- 
ed supplies by land, the neighboring country refused to furnish 
them by water ; fresh provisions and vegetables were no longer to 
be procured, and Boston began to experience the privations of a 
beseiged city. On the 25th of May, arrived ships of war and 
transports from England, bringing large reinforcements, under 
Generals Howe, Burgoyne, and Henry Clinton, commanders of 
high reputation. 

Inspirited by these reinforcements General Gage determined to 



1 68 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

take the field. Previously, however, in conformity to instructions 
from Lord Dartmouth, the head of the war department, he issued a 
proclamation (l2th June), putting the province under martial law, 
threatening to treat as rebels and traitors all malcontents who 
should continue under arms, together with their aiders and abettors ; 
but offering pardon to all who should lay down their arms and re- 
turn to their allegiance. From this proffered amnesty, however, 
John Hancock and Samuel Adams were especially excepted ; their 
offences being pronounced "too flagitious not to meet with condign 
punishment." 

The beseiging force, in the mean time, was daily augmented by 
recruits and volunteers, and now amounted to about fifteen thou- 
sand men distributed at various points. Its character and organ- 
ization were peculiar. It could not be called a national army, for, 
as yet, there was no nation to own it ; it was not under the author- 
ity of the Continental Congress, the act of that body recognizing it 
not having as yet been passed, and the authority of that body itself 
not having been acknowledged. It was, in fact, a fortuitous assem- 
blage of four distinct bodies of troops, belonging to different prov- 
inces, and each having a leader of its own election. About ten 
thousand belonged to Massachusetts, and were under the command 
of General Artemas Ward, whose head-quarters were at Cam- 
bridge. Another body of troops, under Colonel John Stark, al- 
ready mentioned, came from New Hampshire. Rhode Island fur- 
nished a third, under the command of General Nathaniel Greene. 
A fourth was from Connecticut, under the veteran Putnam. These 
bodies of troops, being from different colonies, were independent of 
each other, and had their several commanders. Those from New 
Hampshire were instructed to obey General Ward as commander- 
in-cheif ; with the rest, it was a voluntary act, rendered in consider- 
ation of his being military chief of Massachusetts, the province 
which, as allies, they came to defend. The troops knew but little 
of military discipline. Almost all were familiar with the use of 
fire-arms in hunting and fowhng ; many had served in frontier 
campaigns against the French, and in "bush-fighting" with the 
Indians ; but none were acquainted with regular service or the dis- 
cipline of European armies. There was a regiment of artillery, 
partly organized by Colonel Gridley, a skillful engineer, and fur- 
nished with nine field-pieces ; but the greater part of the troops 
were without military dress or accoutrements ; most of them were 
hasty levies of yeomanry, some of whom had seized their rifles and 
fowling-pieces, and turned out in their working clothes and home- 
spun country garbs. It was an army of volunteers, subordinate 
through incHnation and respect to officers of their own choice, and 
depending for sustenance on supplies sent from their several towns. 

Such was the army spread over an extent of ten or twelve miles, 
and keeping watch upon the town of Boston, containing at that 
time a population of seventeen thousand souls, and garrisoned 
with more than ten thousand British troops, discipHned and exper- 
ienced in the wars of Europe. In the disposition of these forces, 
General Ward had stationed himself at Cambridge, with the main 



1 7 75- J PROJECT TO SEIZE THE HEIGHTS. 169 

body of about nine thousand men and four companies of artillery. 
Lieutenant-General Thomas, second in command, was posted, 
with five thousand Massachusetts, Connecticut and Rhode Island 
troops, and three or four companies of artillery, at Roxbury and 
Dorchester, forming the right wing of the army ; while the left, 
composed in a great measure of New Hampshire troops, stretched 
through Medford to the hills of Chelsea. It was a great annoy- 
ance to the British officers and soldiers, to be thus hemmed in by 
what they termed a rustic rout with calico frocks and fowling- 
pieces. The same scornful and taunting spirit prevailed among 
them, that the cavaliers of yore indulged toward the Covenanters. 
Considering episcopacy as the only loyal and royal faith, they in- 
sulted and desecrated the '-'sectarian" places of worship. One 
was turned into a riding school for the cavalry, and the fire in the 
stove was kindled with books from the library of its pastor. The 
Provincials retaliated by turning the Episcopal church at Cam- 
bridge into a barrack, and melting down its organ-pipes into bullets. 
Both parties panted for action ; the British through impatience of 
their humiliating position, and an eagerness to chastise what they 
considered the presumption of their besiegers ; the Provincials 
through enthusiasm in their cause, a thirst for enterprise and ex- 
ploit, and, it must be added, an unconsciousness of their own mil- 
itary deficiencies. 

We have already mentioned the peninsula of Charlestown (called 
from a village of the same name), which lies opposite to the north 
side of Boston. The heights, which swell up in rear of the 
village, overlook the town and shipping. The project was con- 
ceived in the beseiging camp to seize and occupy those heights. 
A council of war was held upon the subject. The arguments in 
favor of the attempt were, that the army was anxious to be em- 
ployed ; that the country was dissatisfied with its inactivity, and that 
the enemy might thus be drawn out to ground where they might 
be fought to advantage. General Putnam was one of the most 
strenuous in favor of the measure. Some of the more wary and 
judicious, among whom were General Ward and Dr. W^arren, 
doubted the expediency of intrenching themselves on those 
heights, and the possibihty of maintaining so exposed a post, 
scantily furnished, as they were, with ordnance and ammunition. 
Besides, it might bring on a general engagement, which it was not 
safe to risk. Putnam made light of the danger. He was confi- 
dent of the bravery of the militia if intrenched, having seen it 
tried in the old French War. "The Americans," said he, "are 
never afraid of their heads ; they only think of their legs ; shelter 
them, and they'll fight forever." The daring councils of such men 
are always captivating to the inexperienced ; but in the present 
instance, they were sanctioned by one whose opinion in such mat- 
ters, and in this vicinity, possessed pecuhar weight. This was Col- 
onel William Prescott, of Pepperell, who commanded a regiment 
of minute men. He, too, had seen service in the French war, and 
acquired reputation as a lieutenant of infantry at the capture of 
Cape Breton. This was sufficient to constitute him an oracle in the 



lyo LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

present instance. He was now about fifty years of age, tall and 
commanding in his appearance, and retaining the port of a soldier. 
What was more, he had a military garb ; being equipped with a 
three-cornered hat, a top wig, and a single-breasted blue coat, with 
facings and lapped up at the skirts. All this served to give him 
consequence among the rustic militia officers with whom he was in 
council. His opinion, probably, settled the question ; and it was 
determined to seize on and fortify Bunker's Hill and Dorchester 
Heights, Secret intelligence hurried forward the project. General 
Gage, it was said, intended to take possession of Dorchester 
Heights on the night of the i8th of June. These heights lay on 
the opposite side of Boston, and the committee were ignorant of 
their localities. Those on Charlestown Neck, being near at hand, 
had sometime before been reconnoitered by Colonel Richard 
Gridley, and other of the engineers. It was determined to seize 
and fortify these heights on the night of Friday, the i6th of June, 
in anticipation of the movement of General Gage. Troops were 
draughted for the purpose from the Massachusetts regiments of 
Colonels Prescott, Frye and Bridges. There was also a fatigue 
party of about two hundred men from Putnam's Connecticut 
troops, led by his favorite officer, Captain Knowlton ; together 
with a company of forty-nine artillery men, with two field-pieces, 
commanded by Captain Samuel Gridley. A little before sunset the 
troops, about twelve hundred in all, assembled on the common, in 
front of General Ward's quarters. They came provided with 
packs, blankets and provisions for four-and-twenty hours, but ignor- 
ant of the object ot the expedition. Being all paraded, prayers 
were offered up by the reverend President Langdon, of Harvard 
College ; after which they all set forward on their silent march. 
Colonel Prescott, from his experience in military matters, and his 
being an officer in the Massachusetts line, had been chosen by 
General Ward to conduct the enterprise. His written orders were 
to fortify Bunker's Hill, and defend the works until he should be- 
relieved. Colonel Richard Gridley, the chief engineer, who had 
likewise served in the French war, was to accompany him and 
plan the fortifications. 

The detachment left Cambridge about 9 o'clock, Colonel Pres- 
cott taking the lead, preceded by two sergeants with dark lanterns. 
At Charlestown Neck they were joined by Major Brooks, of 
Bridges' regiment, and General Putnam ; and here were the 
wagons laden with intrenching tools, which first gave the men an 
indication of the nature of the enterprise. Charlestown Neck is a 
narrow isthmus, connecting the peninsula with the main land ; 
having the Mystic River, about half a mile wide, on the north, and 
a large embayment of Charles River on the south or right side. 

It was now necessary to proceed with the utmost caution, for 
they were coming on ground over which the British kept jealous 
watch. They had erected a battery at Boston on Copp's Hill, im- 
mediately opposite to Charlestown. Five of their vessels of war 
were stationed so as to bear upon the peninsula from different direc- 
tions, and the guns of one of them swept the isthmus or narrow 



1775-] OPERA TIONS A T NIGHT, 171 

neck just mentioned. Across this isthmus, Colonel Prcscott con- 
ducted the detachment undiscovered, and up the ascent of Bunker's 
Hill. This commences at the neck, and slopes up for about three 
hundred yards to its summit, which is about one hundred and twelve 
feet high. It then declines toward the south, and is connected by 
a ridge with Breed's Hill, about sixty or seventy feet high. The 
crests of the two hills are about seven hundred yards apart. 

On attaining the heights, a question rose which of the two they 
should proceed to fortify. Bunker's Hill was specified in the writ- 
ten orders given to Colonel Prescott by General Ward, but Breed's 
Hill was much nearer to Boston, and had a better command of the 
town and shipping. Bunker's Hill, also, being on the upper and 
narrower part of the peninsula, was itself commanded by the same 
ship w^hich raked the Neck. Putnam was clear for commencing 
at Breed's Hill and making the principal work there, while a minor 
work might be thrown up at Bunker's Hill, as a protection in the 
rear, and a rallying point, in case of being driven out of the main 
work. Others concurred with this opinion, yet there was a hesita- 
tion in deviating from the letter of their orders. At length Colonel 
Gridley became impatient : the night was waning ; delay might 
prostrate the whole enterprise. Breed's Hill was then determined 
on. Gridley marked out the lines for the fortifications ; the men 
stacked their guns ; threw off their packs ; seized their trenching 
tools, and set to work with great spirit; but so much time had been 
wasted in discussion, that it was midnight before they struck the 
first spade into the ground. 

Prescott, who felt the responsibility of his charge, almost 
despaired of carrying on these operations undiscovered. A party 
was sent out by him silently to patrol the shore at the foot of the 
heights, and watch for any movement of the enemy. Not willing 
to trust entirely to the vigilance of others, he twice went down dur- 
ing the night to the water's edge; reconnoitering everything scrup- 
ulously, and noting every sight and sound. It was a warm, still, 
summer's night ; the stars shone brightly, but everything was 
quiet. Boston was buried in sleep. The sentry's cry of "All's 
well " could be heard distinctly from its shores, together with the 
drowsy calling of the watch on board of the ships of war, and 
then all would relapse into silence. Satisfied that the enemy 
were perfectly unconscious of what was going on upon the hill, he 
returned to the works, and a little before daybreak called in the 
patrolUng party. So spiritedly, though silently, had the labor been 
carried on, that by morning a strong redoubt was thrown up as a 
main work, flanked on the left by a breast-work, partly cannon- 
proof, extending down the crest of Breed's Hill to a piece of marshy 
ground called the Slough. To support the right of the redoubt, 
some troops were thrown into the village of Charlestown, at the 
southern foot of the hill. The great object of Prescott' s solicitude 
was now attained, a sufficient bulwark to screen his men before 
they should be discovered ; for he doubted the possibility of keep- 
ing raw recruits to their post, if openly exposed to the fire of artil- 
lery, and the attack of disciplined troops. 



172 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

At dawn of day, the Americans at work were espied by the sail- 
ors on board of the ships of war, and the alaiTn was given. The 
captain of the Lively, the nearest ship, without waiting for orders, 
put a spring upon her cable, and bringing her guns to bear, opened 
a fire upon the hill. The other ships and a floating battery followed 
his example. Their shot did no mischief to the works, but one 
man, among a number who had incautiously ventured outside, was 
killed. A subaltern reported his death to Colonel Prescott, and 
asked what was to be done. " Bury him," was the reply. The 
chaplain gathered some of his military flock around him, and was 
proceeding to perform suitable obsequies over the '• first martyr," 
but Prescott ordered that the men should disperse to their work, 
and the deceased be buried immediately. 

To inspire confidence by example, Prescott now mounted the 
parapet, and walked leisurely about, inspecting the works, giving 
directions, and talking cheerfully with the men. The cannonading 
roused the town of Boston. General Gage could scarcely believe 
his eyes when he beheld on the opposite hill a fortification full of 
men, which had sprung up in the course of the night. As he 
reconnoitered it through a glass from Copp's Hill, the tall figure of 
Prescott, in military garb, walking the parapet, caught his eye. 
•' Who is that officer who appears in command ? " asked he. The 
question was answered by Counselor Willard, Prescott's brother-in- 
law, who was at hand, and recognized his relative. "Will he 
fight?" demanded Gage, quickly. "Yes, sir! he is an old 
soldier, and will fight to the last drop of blood ; but I cannot 
answer for his men." 

"The works must be carried!" exclaimed Gage. He called a 
council of war. The Americans might intend to cannonade Boston 
from this new fortification ; it was unanimously resolved to dislodge 
them. How was this to be done ? A majority of the council, 
including Clinton and Grant, advised that a force should be landed 
on Charlcstown Neck, under the protection of their batteries, so as 
to attack the Americans in rear, and cut off their retreat. General 
Gage objected that it would place his troops between two armies ; 
one at Cambridge, superior in numbers, the other on the heights, 
strongly fortified. He was for landing in front of the works, and 
pushing directly up the hill ; a plan adopted through a confidence 
that raw militia would never stand their ground against the assault 
of veteran troops ; another instance of undervaluing the American 
spirit, which was to cost the enemy a lamentable loss of hfe. 



\ 



CHAPTER IX.! 

BATTLE OF BUNKER's HILL— SIEGE OF BOSTON. 

The sound of drum and trumpet, the clatter of hoofs, the rattline 
of gun-carnages, and all the other military din and bustle in thf 
streets of Boston, soon apprised the Americans on their rudely for- 
tified height of an impending attack. They were ill fitted to with- 
stand It, being jaded by the night's labor, and want of sleep; hun- 
gry and thirsty having brought but scanty supplies, and oppressed 
r^ner^.! W H^ '^\ .'''^'^^'- P^-^scott Sent repeated messages to 
General Ward, asking reinforcements and provisions. Putnam 

W?rH hl>^ h'^'^^m ^ T ^T"' "'^'"S ^^^ exigencies of the case. 
Ward hesitated. He feared to weaken his main bodv at Cam- 
bridge, as his mihtary stores were deposited there, and it miVht 
have to sustain the principal attack. At length, having taken 
advice of the council of safety, he issued orders for Colonels Stark 
and Read, then at Med ford, to march to the relief of Prescott with 
their New Hampshire regiments. The orders reached Medford 
about II o clock. Ammunition was distributed in all haste ; two 
flints a g.ll of powder, and fifteen balls to each man. The balls 
had to be suited to the different calibers of the guns ; the powder 
to be earned in powder-horns, or loose in the pocket, for there 
were no cartndges prepared. It was the rude turn-out of veoman 
soldiery destitute of regular accoutemients. In the mean wMle 
he Amencans on Breed's Hill were sustaining the fie f?om he 
ships, and from the battery on Copp's Hill, which opened^pon 
them about ten o'clock They returned an occasional shot from 
one corner of the redoubt, without much hami to the enemy and 
continued strengthemng their position until ii o'clock, when thev 
ceased to work, piled their intrenching tools in the rear, and looked 
and su ""'hes ^' impatiently for the anticipated reinforcements 

About noon the Americans descried twenty-eight barges cross- 
ing from Boston in parallel lines. They contained a large detach- 
ment of grenadiers, rangers, and light infantry, admirably equipped 
and comn-ianded by Major-General Howe. They made a splendid 
and formidable appearance with their scariet unifomis. and the sun 
hashing upon muskets and bayonets, and brass field-pieces A 
Heavy fire from the ships and batteries covered their advance but 
no attempt was make to oppose them, and they landed about 
I o clock at Moulton s Point, a little to the north of Breed's Hill 
were General Howe made a pause. On reconnoitering the works 
from this point, the Americans appeared to be much more strongly 
posted, than he had imagined. He descried troops also hastening 
to their assistance. These were the New Hampshire troops, led on 
by btark. Howe immediately sent over to General Gage for more 



174 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

forces, and a supply of cannon-balls ; those brought by him being 
found, through some egregious oversight, too large for the ord- 
nance. While awaiting their arrival, refreshments were served out 
to the troops, with "grog," by the bucketful; and tantalizing it 
was, to the hungry and thirsty provincials, to look down from their 
ramparts of earth, and see their invaders seated in groups upon the 
grass eating and drinking, and preparing themselves by a hearty 
meal for the coming encounter. Their only consolation was to 
take advantage of the delay, while the enemy were carousing, to 
strengthen their position. The breast-work on the left of the 
redoubt extended to what was called the Slough, but beyond this, 
the ridge of the hill, and the slope toward Mystic River, were 
undefended, leaving a pass by which the enemy might turn the 
left flank of the position, and seize upon Bunker's Hill. Putnam 
ordered his chosen officer. Captain Knowlton, to cover this pass 
•with the Connecticut troops under his command. A novel kind of 
rampart, savoring of rural device, was suggested by the rustic gen- 
eral. About six hundred feet in the rear of the redoubt, and about 
one hundred feet to the left of the breast-work, was a post and rail- 
fence, set in a low foot-wall of stone, and extending down to Mys- 
tic River. The posts and rails of another fence were hastily pulled 
up, and set a few feet in behind this, and the intermediate space 
was filled up with new mown hay from the adjacent meadows. 
This double fence, it will be found, proved an important protection 
to the redoubt, although there still remained an unprotected inter- 
val of about seven hundred feet. While Knowlton and his men 
were putting up this fence, Putnam proceeded with other of his 
troops to throw up the work on Bunker's Hill, dispatching his son. 
Captain Putnam, on horseback, to hurry up the remainder of his 
men from Cambridge. By this time his compeer in French and 
Indian warfare, the veteran Stark, made his appearance with the 
New Hampshire troops, five hundred strong. He had grown cool 
and wary with age, and his march from Medford, a distance of five 
or six miles, had been in character. He led his men at a moderate 
pace to bring them into action fresh and vigorous. In crossing the 
Neck, which was enfiladed by the enemy's ships and batteries. 
Captain Dearborn, who was by his side, suggested a quick step. 
The veteran shook his head: "One fresh man in action is worth 
ten tired ones," replied he, and marched steadily on. Putnam 
detained some of Stark's men to aid in throwing up the works on 
Bunker's Hill, and directed him to reinforce Knowlton with the 
rest. Stark made a short speech to his men now that they were 
likely to have warm work. He then pushed on, and did good ser- 
vice that day at the rustic bulwark. About 2 o'clock, Warren 
arrived on the heights, ready to engage in their perilous defence, 
although he had opposed the scheme of their occupation. He had 
recently been elected a major-general, but had not received his 
commission ; like Pomeroy, he came to serve in the ranks with a 
musket on his shoulder. Putnam offered him the command at the 
fence ; he declined it, and merely asked where he could be of 
most service as a volunteer. Putnam pointed to the redoubt, ob- 



1775 1 BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. 175 

serving that there lie would be under cover. " Don't think I seek 
a place of safety," replied Warren, quickly; ''where will the 
attack be hottest? " Putnam still jointed to the redoubt. '* That 
is the enemy's object ; if that can be maintained, the day is ours." 
Warren was cheered by the troopjs as he entered tlie redoubt 
Colonel Prescott tendered him the command. He again decUned. 
*' 1 have come to serve only as a volunteer, and shall be happy to 
learn from a soldier of your experience." Such were the noble 
spirits assembled on these perilous heights. 

The British now prepared for a general assault. An easy victory 
was anticipated; the main thought was, how to make it most effec- 
tual. General Pigot advanced up the hill under cover of a fire 
from field-pieces and howitzers planted on a small height near the 
landing-place on Moulton's Point. His troops commenced a dis- 
charge of musketry while yet at a long distance from the redoubts. 
The Americans within the works, obedient to strict command, 
retained their fire until the enemy were within thirty or forty paces, 
when they opened upon them with a tremendous volley. Being 
all marksmen, accustomed to take deliberate aim, the slaughter 
was immense, and especially fatal to officers. The assailants fell 
back in some confusion ; but, rallied on by their officers, advanced 
within jMStol shoL Another volley, more effective than tlie first, 
made them again recoiL To add to their confusion, they were 
galled by a flanking fire from the handful of Provincials posted in 
Charlestown. Shocked at the carnage, and seeing the confusion 
of his troops. General Pigot was urged to give the word for a 
retreat. 

In the mean time, General Howe, with the right wing, advanced 
along the Mystic River toward the fence where Stark, Read and 
KnowUon were stationed, thinking to carry this slight breastwork 
with ease, and so %^t. in the rear of the fortress. His artillery 
proved of little avail, being stopped by a swampy piece of ground, 
while his columns suffered from two or three field-pieces with which 
Putnam had fortified the fence. Howe's men kept up a fire of 
musketry as they advanced ; but, not taking aim, their shot passed 
over the heads of the Americans. The latter had received the 
same orders with those in the redoubt, not to fire until the enemy 
should be within thirty paces. Some few transgressed the com- 
mand. Putnam rode up and swore he would cut down the next 
man that fired contrary to orders. When the British, arrived 
within the stated distance a sheeted fire opened upon them from 
rifles, muskets, and fowling-pieces, all leveled with deadly aim. 
The carnage, as in the other instance, was horrible. The British 
were thrown into confusion and fell back ; some even retreated to 
the boats. The American officers availed themselves of it to pre- 
pare for another attack, which must soon be made. Prescott min- 
gled among his men in the redoubt, who were all in high spirits at 
the severe check they had given "the regulars." He praised 
them for their steadfastness in maintaining their post, and their 
good conduct in reserving their fire until the word of command, 
and exhorted them to do the same in the next attack, Putnam 



176 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

rode about Bunker's Hill and its skirts, to rally and bring on rein- 
forcements which had been checked or scattered in crossing 
Charlestown Neck by the raking fire from the ships and batteries. 
Before many could be brought to the scene of action the British 
had commenced their second attack. They again ascended the 
hill to storm the redoubt ; their advance was covered as before by 
discharges of artillery. Charlestown, which had annoyed them 
on their first attack by a flanking fire, was in flames, by shells 
thrown from Copp's Hill, and by marines from the ships. Being 
built of wood, the place was soon wrapped in a general conflagra- 
tion. The thunder of artillery from batteries and ships, the burst- 
ing of bomb-shells ; the sharp discharges of musketry ; the shouts 
and yells of the combatants ; the crash of burning buildings, and 
the dense volumes of smoke, which obscured the summer sun, all 
formed a tremendous spectacle. " Sure I am," said Burgoyne in one 
of his letters, — " Sure I am nothing ever has or ever can be more 
dreadfully terrible than what was to be seen or heard at this time. 
The most incessant discharge of guns that ever was heard by mor- 
tal ears." 

The American troops, although unused to war, stood undismayed 
amidst a scene where it was bursting upon them with all its horrors. 
Reserving their fire, as before, until the enemy was close at hand, 
they again poured forth repeated volleys with the fatal aim of 
sharpshooters. The British stood the first shock, and continued 
to advance ; but the incessant stream of fire staggered them. 
Their officers remonstrated, threatened, and even attempted to 
goad them on with their swords, but the havoc was too deadly ; 
whole ranks were mowed down ; many of the officers were either 
slain or wounded, and among them several of the staff of General 
Howe. The troops again gave way and retreated down the hill. 
All this passed under the eye of thousands of spectators of both 
sexes and all ages, watching from afar every turn of a battle in 
which the lives of those most dear to them were at hazard. The 
British soldiery in Boston gazed with astonishment and almost 
incredulity at the resolute and protracted stand of raw militia whom 
they had been taught to despise, and at the havoc made among 
their own veteran troops. Every convoy of wounded brought over 
to the town increased their consternation, and General Clinton, 
who had watched the action from Copp's Hill, embarking in a 
boat, hurried over as a volunteer, taking with him reinforcements. 

A third attack was now determined on, though some of Howe's 
officers remonstrated, declaring it would be downright butchery. 
A different plan was adopted. Instead of advancing in front of 
the redoubt, it was to be taken in flank on the left, where the open 
space between the breast-work and the fortified fence presented a 
weak point. It having been accidentally discovered that the 
ammunition of the Americans was nearly expended, preparations 
were made to carry the works at the point of the bayonet ; and the 
soldiery threw off their knapsacks, and some even their coats, to 
be more light for action. General Howe, with the main body, now 
made a feint of attacking the fortified fence ; but, while a part of 



I775-J I^HE SECOND ASSA UL T. 177 

his force was thus engaged, the rest brought some of the field- 
pieces to enfilade the breastwork on the left of the redoubt. A rak- 
ing fire soon drove the Americans out of this exposed place into 
the inclosure. Much damage, too, was done in the latter by balls 
which entered the sally-port. The troops were now led on to assail 
the works ; those who flinched were, as before, goaded on by the 
swords of the officers. The Americans again reserved their fire 
until their assailants were close at hand, and then made a murder- 
ous volley, by which several officers were laid low, and General 
Howe himself was wounded in the foot. The British soldiery this 
time likewise reserved their fire and rushed on with fixed bayonets. 
Clinton and Pigot had reached the southern and eastern sides of 
the redoubt, and it was now assailed on three sides at once. Pres- 
cott ordered those who had no bayonets to retire to the back part 
of the redoubt and fire on the enemy as they showed themselves 
on the parapet. The first who mounted exclaimed in triumph, 
"The day is ours!" He was instantly shot down, and so were 
several others who mounted about the same time. The Americans, 
however, had fired their last round, their ammunition was 
exhausted ; and now succeeded a desperate and deadly struggle, 
hand to hand, with bayonets, stones, and the stocks of their mus- 
kets. At length, as the British continued to pour in, Prescott gave 
the order to retreat. His men had to cut their way through two 
divisions of the enemy who were getting in rear of the redoubt, 
and they received a destructive volley from those who had formed 
on the captured works. By that volley fell the patriot Warren, 
who had distinguished himself throughout the action. He was 
among the last to leave the redoubt, and had scarce done so when 
he was shot through the head with a musket-ball, and fell dead on 
the spot. 

While the Americans were thus slowly dislodged from the redoubt, 
Stark, Read and Knowlton maintained their ground at the fortified 
fence ; which, indeed, had been nobly defended throughout the 
action. Pomeroy distinguished himself here by his sharpshooting 
until his musket was shattered by a ball. The resistance at this 
hastily constructed work was kept up after the troops in the redoubt 
had given way, and until Colonel Prescott had left the hill; thus 
defeating General Howe's design of cutting off" the retreat of the 
main body ; which would have produced a scene of direful confu- 
sion and slaughter. Having effected their purpose, the brave 
associates at the fence abandoned their weak outpost, retiring 
slowly, and disputing the ground inch by inch, with a regularity 
remarkable in troops many of whom had never before been in 
action. The main retreat was across Bunker's Hill, where Putnam 
had endeavored to throw up a breast-work. The veteran, sword 
in hand, rode to the rear of the retreating troops, regardless 
of the balls whistling about him. His only thought was to rally 
them at the unfinished works. " Halt ! make a stand here ! " cried 
he, "we can check them yet. In God's name, form and give them 
one shot more." Pomeroy, wielding his shattered musket as a 
truncheon, seconded him in his eff'orts to stay the torrent. It was 



178 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

impossible, however, to bring the troops to a stand. They con- 
tinued on down the hill to the Neck and across it to Cambridge, 
exposed to a raking fire from the ships and batteries, and only 
protected by a single piece of ordnance. The British were too 
exhausted to pursue them ; they contented themselves with taking 
possession of Bunker's Hill, were reinforced from Boston, and 
threw up additional works during the night. 

It was the first regular battle between the British and the Ameri- 
cans, and most eventful in its consequences. The former had 
gained the ground for which they contended ; but, if a victory, it 
was more disastrous and humiliating to them than an ordinary 
defeat. They had ridiculed and despised their enemy, represent- 
ing them as dastardly and inefficient ; yet here their iDest troops, 
led on by experienced officers, had repeatedly been repulsed by an 
inferior force of that enemy — mere yeomanry — from works thrown 
up in a single night, and had suff'ered a loss rarely paralleled in 
battle with the most veteran soldiery ; for, according to their own 
returns, their killed and wounded, out of a detachment of two 
thousand men, amounted to one thousand and fifty-four, and a 
large proportion of them officers. The loss of the Americans did 
not exceed four hundred and fifty. To the latter this defeat, if 
defeat it might be called, had the effect of a triumph. It gave them 
confidence in themselves and consequence in the eyes of their 
enemies. They had proved to themselves and to others that they 
could measure weapons with the disciplined soldiers of Europe, and 
inflict the most harm in the conflict. 

Among the British officers slain was Major Pitcairn, who, at 
Lexington, had shed the first blood in the revolutionary war. In 
the death of Warren the Americans had to lament the loss of a 
distinguished patriot and a most estimable man. It was deplored 
as a public calamity. His friend Elbridge Gerry had endeavored 
to dissuade him from risking his life in this perilous conflict, " Dulce 
et decorum est pro patria mori," replied Warren, as if he had fore- 
seen his fate — a fate to be envied by those ambitious of an honor- 
able fame. He was one of the first who fell in the glorious cause 
of his country, and his name has become consecrated in its his- 
tory. 

Prescott conducted the troops in the night enterprise ; he super- 
intended the building of the redoubt, and defended it throughout 
the battle ; his name, therefore, will ever shine most conspicuous, 
and deservedly so, on this bright page of our Revolutionary his- 
tory. Putnam was a leading spirit throughout the affair; one of 
the first to prompt and of the last to maintain it. He appears to 
have been active and efficient at every point ; sometimes fortifying ; 
sometimes hurrying up reinforcements ; inspiriting the men by his 
presence while they were able to maintain their ground, and fight- 
i^^g gallantly at the outpost to cover their retreat. The brave old 
man, riding about in the heat of the action, on this sultry day, 
"with a hanger belted across his brawny shoulders, over a waist- 
coat without sleeves," has been sneered at by a contemporary, as 
••much fitter to head a band of sickle men or ditchers than mus- 



1775-1 VALUE OF HISTORIC NAMES. 179 

keteers." But this very description illustrates his character, and 
identifies him with the times and the service. A yeoman warrior 
fresh from the plow, in the garb of rural labor ; a patriot brave and 
generous, but rough and ready, who thought not of himself in time 
of danger, but was ready to serve in any way, and to sacrifice 
official rank and self-glorificaton to the good of the cause. He was 
eminently a soldier for the occasion. His name has long been a. 
favorite one with young and old ; one of the talismanic names of 
the Revolution, the very mention of which is like the sound of a 
trumpet. Such names are the precious jewels of our history, to be 
garnered up among the treasures of the nation, and kept immacu- 
late from the tarnishing breath of the cynic and the doubter. 



CHAPTER X. 

WASHINGTON ARRIVES IN THE CAMP AND TAKES COMMAND. 

In a preceding chapter we left Washington preparing to depart 
from Philadelphia for the army before Boston. He set out on 
horseback on the 21st of June, having for military companions of 
his journey Major-Generals Lee and Schuyler, and being accom- 
panied for a distance by several private friends. As an escort he 
had a "gentleman troop" of Philadelphia, commanded by Cap- 
tain Markoe ; the whole formed a brilliant cavalcade. In fact, the 
journey of Washington with his associate generals, experienced 
like him in the wild expeditions of the old P>ench war, was a revi- 
val of early campaigning feelings. They had scarcely proceeded 
twenty miles from Philadelphia when they were met by a courier, 
spurring with all speed, bearing dispatches from the army to Con- 
gress, communicating tidings of the battle of Bunker's Hill. 
Washington eagerly inquired particulars; above all, how acted the 
militia? When told that they stood their ground bravely ; sustained 
the enemy's fire — reserved their own until at close quarters, and 
then delivered it with deadly effect ; it seemed as if a weight of 
doubt and solicitude were lifted from his heart. "The liberties of 
the country are safe!" exclaimed he. The news of the battle of 
Bunker's Hill had startled the whole country ; and this clattering 
cavalcade, escorting the commander-i n-chief to the army, was the 
gaze and wonder of every town and village. 

The journey may be said to have been a continual council of 
■war between Washington and the two generals. Even the contrast 
in character of the two latter made them regard questions from 
different points of view. Schuyler, a warm-hearted patriot, with 
everything staked on the cause ; Lee, a soldier of fortune, indiffer- 
ent to the ties of home and country, drawing his sword without 
enthusiasm ; more through resentment against a government 
which had disappointed him, than zeal for liberty or for colonial 
rights. 



i8o LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

The population of New York was more varied in its elements 
than that of almost any other of the provinces, and had to be 
cautiously studied. The New Yorkers were of a mixed origin, and 
stamped with the peculiarities of their respective ancestors. The 
descendants of the old Dutch and Huguenot families, the earliest 
settlers, were still among the soundest and best of the population. 
They inherited the love of liberty, civil and religious, of their fore- 
fathers, and were those who stood foremost in the present struggle 
for popular rights. Such were the Jays, the Bensons, the Beek- 
mans, the Hoffmans, the Van Homes, the Roosevelts, the Duyc- 
kinks, the Pintards, the Yateses, and others whose names figure 
in the patriotic documents of the day. Some of them, doubtless, 
cherished a remembrance of the time when their forefathers were 
lords of the land, and felt an innate propensity to join in resistance to 
the government by which their supremacy had been overturned. A 
great proportion of the more modern families, dating from the down- 
fall of the Dutch government in 1664, were English and Scotch, 
and among these were many loyal adherents to the crown. Then 
there was a mixture of the -whole, produced by the intermarriages 
of upward of a century, which partook of every shade of charac- 
ter and sentiment. The operations of foreign commerce, and the 
regular communications with the mother country through packets 
and ships of war, kept these elements in constant action, and con- 
tributed to produce that mercurial temperament, that fondness for 
excitement, and proneness to pleasure, which distinguished them 
from their neighbors on cither side — the austere Puritans of New 
England, and the quiet "Friends" of Pennsylvania. 

There was a power, too, of a formidable kind within the interior 
of the province, which was an object of much solicitude. This 
was the "Johnson Family." We have repeatedly had occasion to 
speak of Sir William Johnson, his majesty's general agent for 
Indian affairs, of his great wealth, and his almost sovereign sway 
over the Six Nations. He had originally received that appoint- 
ment through the influence of the Schuyler family. Both Generals 
Schuyler and Lee, when young men, had campaigned with him ; 
and it was among the Mohawk warriors, who rallied under his 
standard, that Lee had beheld his vaunted models of good-breeding. 

In the recent difficulties between the crown and colonies, Sir 
William had naturally been in favor of the government which had 
enriched and honored him, but he had viewed with deep concern 
the acts of Parliament which were goading the colonists to armed 
resistance. In the height of his solicitude, he received dispatches 
ordering him, in case of hostihties, to enlist the Indians in the cause 
of government. To the agitation of feelings produced by these or- 
ders many have attributed a stroke of apoplexy, of which he died, 
on the nth of July, 1774, about a year "before the time of which 
we are treating. His son and heir, Sir John Johnson and his sons- 
in-law, Colonel Guy Johnson and Colonel Claus, felt none of the 
reluctance of Sir William to use harsh measures in support of roy- 
alty. They lived in a degree of rude feudal style in stone mansions 
capable of defense, situated on the Mohawk River and in its vicin- 



I77S.] PEOPLE OF NEW YORK. i8i 

ity ; they had many Scottish Highlanders for tenants ; and among 
their adherents were violent men, such as the Butlers of Tryon 
County, and Brant, the Mohawk sachem since famous in Ind'ian 
warfare. Tiiey had recently gone about with armed retainers, 
overawing and breaking up patriotic assemblages, and it was 
known they could at any time bring a force of warriors in the field. 
Recent accounts stated that Sir John was fortifying the old family 
hall at Johnstown with swivels, and had a hundred and fifty 
Roman Catholic Highlanders quartered in and about it, all armed 
and ready to obey his orders. 

Colonel Guy Johnson, however, was the most active and zealous 
of the family. Pretending to apprehend a design on the part of the 
New England people to surprise and carry him off, he fortified his 
stone mansion on the Mohawk, called Guy's Park, and assembled 
there a part of his militia regiment, and other of his adherents, to 
the number of five hundred. He held a great Indian council there, 
hkewise, in which the chiefs of the Six Nations recalled the friend- 
ship and good deeds of the late Sir WiUiam Johnson, and avowed 
their determination to stand by and defend every branch of his 
family. 

Tryon, the governor of New York, was at present absent in Eng- 
land, having been called home by the ministry to give an account 
of the affairs of the province, and to receive instructions for its 
management. He was a tory in heart, and had been a zealous 
opponent of all colonial movements, and his talents and address 
gave him great influence over an important part of the community. 
Should he return with hostile instructions, and should he and the 
Johnsons cooperate, the one controlling the bay and harbor of 
New York and the waters of the Hudson by means of ships and 
land forces; the others overrunning the valley of the Mohawk and 
the regions beyond Albany with savage hordes, this great central 
province might be wrested from the confederacy , and all inter- 
course broken off between the eastern and southern colonies. All 
these circumstances and considerations, many of which came under 
discussion in the course of this military journey, rendered the com- 
mand of New York a post of especial trust and importance, and 
determined Washington to confide it to General Schuyler. He 
was pecuHarly fitted for it by his mihtary talents, his intimate 
knowledge of the province and its concerns, especially what related 
to the upper parts of it, and his experience in Indian affairs. 

At Newark, in the Jerseys, Washington was met on the 25th by 
a committee of the provincial Congress, sent to conduct him to the 
city. The Congress was in a perplexity. It had in a manner 
usurped and exercised the powers of Governor Tryon during his 
absence, while at the same time it professed allegiance to the crown 
which had appointed him. He was now in the harbor, just arrived 
from England, and hourly expected to land. Washington, too, was 
approaching. How were these double claims to ceremonious 
respect happening at the same time to be managed? 

In this dilemma a regiment of militia was turned out, and the 
colonel instructed to pay military honors to whichever of the dis- 



1 82 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

tinguished functionaries should first arrive. Washington was ear- 
lier than the governor by several hours, and received those honors. 
The landing of Governor Try on took place about eight o'clock in 
the evening. The military honors were repeated. A ship of war, 
the Asia, lay anchored opposite the city ; its grim batteries bearing 
upon it, greatly to the disquiet of the faint-hearted among its inhabi- 
tants. In this situation of affairsWashington was happy to leave such 
an efficient person as General Schuylerin command of the place. At 
New York, Washington had learned all the details of the battle of 
Bunker's Hill ; they quickened his impatience to arrive at the camp. 
In the mean time the provincial Congress of Massachusetts, then in 
session at Watertown, had made arrangements for the expected 
arrival of Washington. According to a resolve of that body, "the 
president's house in Cambridge, excepting one room reserved by 
the president for his own use, was to be taken, cleared, prepared, and 
furnished for the reception of the Commander-in-Chief and Gener- 
al Lee. The Congress had hkewise sent on a deputation which 
met Washington at Springfield, on the frontiers of the province, 
and provided escorts and accomodations for him along the road. 
Washington proceeded to the head-quarters provided for him at 
Cambridge, three miles distant. As he entered the confines of 
the camp the shouts of the multitude and the thundering of artil- 
lery gave note to the enemy beleaguered in Boston of his arrival. 
His military reputation had preceded him and excited great expec- 
tations. They were not disappointed. His personal appearance, 
notwithstanding the dust of travel, was calculated to captivate the 
public eye. As he rode through the camp, amidst a throng of 
officers, he was the admiration of the soldiery and of a curious 
throng collected from the surrounding country. Happy was the 
countryman who could get a full view of him to carry home an 
account of it to his neighbors. "I have been much gratified this 
day with a view of General Washington," writes a contemporary 
chronicler. "His excellency was on horseback, in company with 
several military gentlemen. It was not difficult to distinguish him 
from all others. He is tall and well-proportioned, and his perso- 
nal appearance truly noble and majestic." The fair sex were still 
more enthusiastic in their admiration, if we may judge from the fol- 
lowing passage of a letter written by the intelligent and accomp- 
hshed wife of John Adams to her husband: "Dignity, ease, and 
complacency, the gentleman and the soldier, look agreeably 
blended in him. Modesty marks every hne and feature of his 
face. Those hues of Dryden instantly occurred to me: 

" ' Mark his majestic fabric ! He's a temple 
Sacred by birth, and built by hands divine ; 
His soul's the deity that lodges there ; 
Nor is the pile unworthy of the God.' " 

With Washington, modest at all times, there was no false excite- 
ment on the present occasion ; nothing to call forth emotions of 
self-glorification. The honors and congratulations with which 
he was received, the acclamations of the pubhc, the cheerings of 
the army, only told him how much was expected from him ; and 
when he looked round upon the raw and rustic levies he was to 



1 77 5 • ] HO WE— CLINTON— B UR G 1 'NE. 1 83 

command, "a mixed multitude of people, under very little disci- 
pline, order, or government," scattered in rough encampments 
about hill and dale, beleaguering a city garrisoned by veteran 
troops, with ships of war anchored about its harbor, and strong 
outposts guarding it, he felt the awful responsibility of his situation, 
and the compUcated and stupendous task before him. He spoke 
of it, however, not despondingly nor boastfully and with defiance ; 
but with that solemn and sedate resolution, and that hopeful 
reliance on Supreme Goodness, which belonged to his magnan- 
imous nature. The cause of his country, he observed, had called 
him to an active and dangerous duty, but he trusted that Divine 
Providence, which wisely orders the affairs of men, would enable 
him to discharge it with fidelity and success. 

On the 3d of July, the morning after his arrival at Cambridge, 
Washington took formal command of the army. It was drawn up 
on the Common about half a mile from head-quarters. A multi- 
tude had assembled there, for as yet military spectacles were 
novelties, and the camp was full of visitors, men, women, and 
children, from all parts of the country, who had relatives among 
the yeoman soldiery. An ancient elm is still pointed out, under 
which Washington, as he arrived from head-quarters accompanied 
by General Lee and a numerous suite, wheeled his horse, and drew 
his sword as commander-in-chief of the armies. Washington 
visited the different American posts, and rode to the heights, com- 
manding views over Boston and its environs, being anxious to 
make himself acquainted with the strength and relative position of 
both armies ; and here we will give a few particulars concerning 
the distinguished commanders with whom he was brought immedi- 
ately in competition. 

Congress, speaking of them reproachfully, observed, "Three of 
England's most experienced generals are sent to wage war with 
their fellow-subjects." The first here alluded to was the Honor- 
able WilUam Howe, next in command to Gage. He was a man of 
a fine presence, six feet high, well proportioned, and of graceful 
deportment. He is said to have been not unlike Washington in 
appearance, though wanting his energy and activity. He lacked 
also his air of authority ; but affability of manners, and a generous 
disposition, made him popular with both officers and soldiers. 

There was a sentiment in his favor even among Americans at 
the time when he arrived at Boston. It was remembered that he 
was brother to the gallant and generous youth. Lord Howe, who 
fell in the flower of his days, on the banks of Lake George, and 
whose untimely death had been lamented throughout the colonies. 
It was remembered that the general himself had won reputation in 
the same campaign, commanding the light infantry under Wolfe, 
on the famous plains of Abraham. A mournful feeling had there- 
fore gone through the country, when General Howe was cited as 
one of the British commanders who had most distinguished them- 
selves in the bloody battle of Bunker's Hill. General Henry 
Clinton, the next in command, was grand-son of the Earl of 
Lincoln, and son of George Clinton, who had been Governor ot 



i84 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the province of New York for ten years, from 1743. The general 
had seen service on the continent in the Seven Years' War, He 
was of short stature, and inclined to corpulency ; with a full face 
and prominent nose. His manners were reserved, and altogether 
he was in strong contrast with Howe, and by no means so popular. 

Burgoyne, the other British general of note, had entered the 
army at an early age. In 1758, Burgoyne was a heutenant- 
colonel of light dragoons. In 1761, he was sent with a force to 
aid the Portuguese against the Spaniards, joined the army com- 
manded by the Count de la Lippe, and signalized himself by 
surprising and capturing the town of Alcantara. He had since 
been elected to Parliament for the borough of Middlesex, and dis- 
played considerable parliamentary talents. In 1772, he was made 
a major-general. Such were the three British commanders at 
Boston, who were considered especially formidable ; and they had 
with them eleven thousand veteran troops, well appointed and well 
disciplined. 

In visiting the different posts, Washington halted for a time at 
Prospect Hill, which, as its name denotes, commanded a wide view 
over Boston and the surrounding country. Here Putnam had 
taken his position after the battle of Bunker's Hill, fortifying him- 
self with works which he deemed impregnable; and here the 
veteran was enabled to point out to the commander-in-chief, and 
to Lee, the main features of the belligerent region, which lay 
spread out like a map before them. Bunker's Hill was but a mile 
distant to the east ; the British standard floating as if in triumph 
on its summit. The main force under General Howe was intrench- 
ing itself strongly about half a mile beyond the place of the recent 
battle. Scarlet uniforms gleamed about the hill; tents and 
marquees whitened its sides. All up there was bright, brilliant, 
and triumphant. At the base of the hill lay Charlestown in ashes, 
" nothing to be seen of that fine town but chimneys and rubbish." 
Howe's sentries extended a hundred and fifty yards beyond the 
neck or isthmus, over which the Americans retreated after the 
battle. Three floating batteries in Mystic River commanded this 
isthmus, and a twenty-gun ship was anchored between the peninsula 
and Boston. General Gage, the commander-in-chief, still had his 
head-quarters in the town, but there were few troops there besides 
Burgoyne' s light-horse. A large force however, was intrenched 
south of the town on the neck leading to Roxbury — the only 
entrance to Boston by land. 

The American troops were irregularly distributed in a kind of 
semicircle eight or nine miles in extent ; the left resting on Winter 
Hill, the most northern post: the right extending on the south to 
Roxbury and Dorchester Neck. 

Washington reconnoitered the British posts from various points 
of view. Everything about them was in admirable order. The 
works appeared to be constructed with military science, the troops 
to be in high state of discipline. The American camp, on the 
contrary, disappointed him. He had expected to find eighteen or 
twenty thousand men under arms ; there were not much more than 



1775] -S-^T? V£V FROM PROSPECT HILL. 185 

fourteen thousand. He had expected to find some degree of sys- 
tem and discipline ; whereas all were raw militia. He had expected 
to find works scientifically constructed, and proofs of knowledge 
and skill in engineering ; whereas, what he saw of the latter was 
very imperfect, and confined to the mere manual exercise of can- 
non. There was abundant evidence of aptness at trenching and 
throwing up rough defences ; and in that way General Thomas 
had fortified Roxbury Neck, and Putman had strengthened Pros- 
pect Hill, But the semicircular line which linked the extreme 
posts, was formed of rudely-constructed works, far too extensive 
for the troops which were at hand to man them. Within this 
attenuated semicircle, the British forces lay concentrated and com- 
pact ; and having command of the water, might suddenly bring 
their main strength to bear upon some weak points, force it, and 
sever the American camp. In fact, when we consider the scanty, 
ill-conditioned and irregular force which had thus stretched itself 
out to beleaguer a town and harbor defended by ships and floating 
batteries, and garrisoned by eleven thousand strongly posted vet- 
erans, we are at a loss whether to attribute its hazardous position 
to ignorance, or to that daring self-confidence, which at times, in 
our mihtary history, has snatched success in defiance of scientific 
rules. One of the encampments, however, was in striking con- 
trast with the rest, and might vie wMth those of the British for 
order and exactness. Here were tents and marquees pitched in 
the English style ; soldiers well drilled and well equipped ; every- 
thing had an air of discipline and subordination. It was a body 
of Rhode Island troops, which had been raised, drilled, and brought 
to the camp by Brigadier-General Greene, of that province, whose 
subsequent renown entitles him to an introduction to the reader. 
Nathaniel Greene was born in Rhode Island, on the 26th of May, 
1742. His father was a miller, an anchor-smith, and a Quaker 
preacher. The waters of the Potowhammet turned the wheels 
of the mill, and raised the ponderous sledge hammer of the 
forge. Greene, in his boyhood, followed the plow, and occasion- 
ally worked at the forge of his father. His education was of an 
ordinary kind ; but having an early thirst for knowledge, he 
applied himself sedulously to various studies, while subsisting by 
the labor of his hands. Nature had endowed him with quick 
parts, and a sound judgment, and his assiduity was crowned with suc- 
cess. He became fluent and instructive in conversation, and his 
letters, still extant, show that he held an able pen. In the late 
turn of public affairs, he had caught the belligerent spirit prevalent 
throughout the country. Plutarch and Caesar's Commentaries 
became his delight. He applied himself to military studies, for 
which he was prepared by some knowledge of mathematics. His 
ambition was to organize and discipline a corps of militia to which 
he belonged. For this purpose, during a visit to Boston, he had 
taken note of everything about the discipline of the British troops. 
Greene made a soldier-like address to Washington, welcoming 
him to the camp. His appearance and manner were calculated to 
make a favorable impression. He was about thirty-nine years of 



i86 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

age, nearly six feet high, well built and vigorous, with an open, 
animated, intelligent countenance, and a frank, manly demeanor. 
He may be said to have stepped at once into the confidence of the 
commander-in-chief, which he never forfeited, but became one of 
his most attached, faithful, and efficient coadjutors throughout the 
war. 

Having taken his survey of the army, Washington wrote to the 
President of Congress, representing its various deficiencies, and, 
among other things, urging the appointment of a commissary-gen- 
eral, a quartermaster-general, a commissary of musters, and a 
commissary of artillery. Above all things, he requested a supply 
of money as soon as possible. " I find myself already much em- 
barrassed for want of a military chest." In one of his recommen- 
dations we have an instance of frontier expediency, learned in his 
early campaigns. Speaking of the ragged condition of the army, 
and the difficulty of procuring the requisite kind of clothing, he 
advises that a number of hunting-shirts, not less than ten thousand, 
should be provided ; as being the cheapest and quickest mode of 
supplying this necessity. " I know nothing in a speculative view 
more trivial," observes he, " yet which, if put in practice would 
have a happier tendency to unite the men, and abolish those pro- 
vincial distinctions that lead to jealousy and dissatisfaction." 
Among the troops most destitute, were those belonging to Massa- 
chusetts, which formed the larger part of the army. Washington 
made a noble apology for them. " This unhappy and devoted 
province," said he, " has been so long in a state of anarchy, and 
the yoke has been laid so heavily on it, that great allowances are 
to be made for troops raised under such circumstances. The 
deficiency of numbers, discipline, and stores, can only lead to this 
conclusion, that their spirits had exceeded their strength'' 

One of the most efficient cooperators of Washington at this 
time, and throughout the war, was Jonathan Trumbull, the Gov- 
ernor of Connecticut, He was a well-educated man, experienced 
in public business, who had sat for many years in the legislative 
councils of his native province. Misfortune had cast him down 
from affluence, at an advanced period of life, but had not subdued his 
native energy. He had been one of the leading spirits of the Revolu- 
tion, and the only colonial governor who, at its commencement, 
proved true to the popular cause. He was now sixty-five years of 
age, active, zealous, devout, a patriot of the primitive New Eng- 
land stamp, whose religion sanctified his patriotism. A letter 
addressed by him to Washington, just after the latter had entered 
upon the command, is worthy of the purest days of the Cov- 
enanters. " Congress," writes he, "have, with one united voice, 
appointed you to the high station you possess. The Supreme 
Director of all events hath caused a wonderful union of hearts and 
counsels to subsist among us. Now, therefore, be strong, and very 
courageous. May the God of the armies of Israel shower down the 
blessings of his Divine providence on you ; give you wisdom and 
fortitude, cover your head in the day of battle and danger, add suc- 
cess, convince our enemies of their mistaken measures, and that all 



1775] WASHINGTON'S FAMILY. 187 

their attempts to deprive these colonies of their inestimable con- 
stitutional rights and liberties, are injurious and vain." 

The justice and impartiality of Washington were called into 
exercise as soon as he entered upon his command, in allaying dis- 
contents among his general officers caused by the recent appoint- 
ments and promotions made by the Continental Congress. Gen- 
eral Spencer was so offended that Putnam should be promoted 
over his head, that he left the army, without visiting the command- 
er-in-chief; but was subsequently induced to return. General 
Thomas felt aggrieved by being outranked by the veteran Pome- 
roy ; the latter, however, declining to serve, he found himself 
senior brigadier, and was appeased. The sterling merits of Put- 
nam soon made every one acquiesce in his promotion. There was 
a generosity and buoyancy about the brave old man that made 
him a favorite throughout the army ; especially with the younger 
officers, who spoke of him familiarly and fondly as "Old Put ; " a 
sobriquet by which he is called even in one of the private letters 
of the commander-in-chief. 

The member of Washington's family most deserving of mention 
at present, was his secretary, Mr. Joseph Reed. With this gentle- 
man he had formed an intimacy in the course of his visits to 
attend the sessions of the Continental Congress. Mr. Reed was 
an accomplished man, had studied law in America, and at the 
Temple in London, and had gained a hi^h reputation at the Phila- 
delphia bar. In the dawning of the Revolution he had embraced 
the popular cause, and carried on a correspondence with the Earl 
of Dartmouth, endeavoring to enlighten that minister on the sub- 
ject of colonial affairs. He had since been highly instrumental in 
rousing the Philadelphians to cooj^erate with the patriots of Bos- 
ton. A sympathy of views and feelings had attached him to 
Washington, and induced him to accompany him to the camp. 
He had no definite purpose when he left home, and his friends in 
Philadelphia were surprised, on receiving a letter from him written 
from Cambridge, to find that he had accepted the post of secre- 
tary to the commander-in-chief. Washington has occasionally 
been represented as cold and reserved ; yet his intercourse with 
Mr. Reed is a proof to the contrary. His friendship toward him, 
was frank and cordial, and the confidence he reposed in him full 
and implicit. Reed, in fact, became, in a little time, the intimate 
companion of his thoughts, his bosom counselor. 

The arrival of Gates in camp was heartily welcomed by the 
commander-in-chief, who had received a letter from that officer, 
gratefully acknowledging his friendly influence in procuring him 
the appointment of adjutant-general. 

The hazardous position of the army from the great extent and 
weakness of its Mnes, was what most pressed on the immediate 
attention of Washington ; and he hastened to improve the defences 
of the camp, strengthen the weak parts of the line, and throw up 
additional works around the main forts. No one seconded him 
more effectually in this matter than General Putnam. No works 



1 88 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

were thrown up with equal rapidity to those under his superintend- 
ence. "You infuse your own spirit into your workmen," said 
Washington. 

The army was distributed by Washington into three grand 
divisions. One, forming the right wing, was stationed on the 
heights of Roxbury. It was commanded by Major-General Ward, 
who had under him Brigadier-General Spencer and Thomas. 
Another, forming the left wing under Major-General Lee, having 
with him Brigadier-Generals Sullivan and Greene, was stationed on 
Winter and Prospect Hills ; while the center, under Major-General 
Putnam and Brigadier-General Heath, was stationed at Cam- 
bridge. With Putnam was encamped his favorite officer Knowl- 
ton, who had been promoted by Congress to the rank of major for 
his gallantry at Bunker's Hill. At Washington's recommendation, 
Joseph Trumbull, the eldest son of the governor, received on the 
24th of July the appointment of commissary -general of the con- 
tinental army. He had already officiated with talent in that capa- 
city in the Connecticut militia. 

Nothing excited more gaze and wonder among the rustic visitors 
to the camp, than the arrival of several rifle companies, fourteen 
hundred men in all, from Pennsylvania, Maryland and Virginia ; 
such stalwart fellows as Washington had known in his early 
campaigns. Stark hunters and bush fighters ; many of them 
upward of six feet high, and of vigorous frame ; dressed in fringed 
frocks, or rifle shirts, and round hats. Their displays of sharp 
shooting were soon among the marvels of the camp. We are told 
that while advancing at quick step, they could hit a mark of seven 
inches diameter, at the distance of two hundred and fifty yards. 
One of these companies was commaded by Captain Daniel Morgan, 
a native of New Jersey, whose first experience in war had been to 
accompany Braddock's army as a wagoner. He had since carried 
arms on the frontier and obtained a command. He and his rifle- 
men in coming to the camp had marched six hundred miles in three 
weeks. 

The great object of Washington at present, was to force the enemy 
to come out of Boston and try a decisive action. His fines had for 
some time cut off all communication of the town with the country, 
and he had caused the live stock within a considerable distance of 
the place to be driven back from the coast, out of reach of the men- 
of-war's boats. Fresh provisions and vegetables were consequent- 
ly growing more and more scarce and extravagantly dear, and 
sickness began to prevail. At this critical juncture, when Wash- 
ington was pressing the siege, and endeavoring to provoke a 
general action, a startling fact came to light ; the whole amount of 
powder in the camp would not furnish more than nine cartridges 
to a man ! A gross error had been made by the committee of sup- 
plies when Washington, on taking command, had required a 
return of the ammunition. They had returned the whole amount of 
powder collected by the province, upward of three hundred barrels; 
without stating what had been expended. The blunder was 
detected on an order being issued for a new supply of cartridges. 



I775-] CANADA MENACED. 189 

It was found that there were but thirty-two barrels of powder in 
store. This was an astounding discovery. Washington instantly 
dispatched letters and expresses to Rhode Island, the Jerseys, Ti- 
conderoga and elsewhere, urging immediate supplies of powder and 
lead, no quantity, however small, to be considered beneath notice. 
Day after day elapsed without the arrival of any supplies; for in 
these irregular times, the munitions of war were not readily 
procured. It seemed hardly possible that the matter could be kept 
concealed from the enemy. Their work on Bunker's Hill com- 
manded a full view of those of the Americans on Winter and Pro- 
spect Hill. Each camp could see what was passing in the other. 
The sentries were almost near enough to converse. There was 
furtive intercourse occasionally between the men. In this critical 
state, the American camp remained for a fortnight; the anxious 
commander incessantly apprehending an attack. At length a 
partial supply from the Jerseys put an end to this imminent risk. 
Washington's secretary, Reed, who had been the confidant of his 
troubles and anxieties, gives a vivid expression of his feelings on 
the arrival of this relief. "I can hardly look back, without 
shuddering, at our situation before this increase of our stock. 
Stock did I say ? it was next to nothing. Almost the whole powder 
of the army was in the cartridge-boxes. " 

Notwithstanding the supply from the Jerseys, there was not more 
powder in camp than would serve the artillery for one day of 
general action. None, therefore, was allowed to be wasted ; the 
troops were even obliged to bear in silence an occasional can- 
nonading. 

Washington issued orders that British officers at Watertown and 
Cape Ann, who were at large on parole, should be confined in 
Northampton jail ; explaining to them that this conduct, which 
might appear to them harsh and cruel, was contrary to his disposi- 
tion, but according to the rule of treatment observed by General 
Gage toward the American prisoners in his hands ; making no 
distinction of rank. Circumstances, of which we have no explana- 
tion, induced subsequently a revocation of this order ; the officers 
were permitted to remain as before, at large upon parole, experienc- 
ing every indulgence and civihty consistent with their security. 

Letters from General Schuyler, received in the course of 
July, had awakened apprehensions of danger from the interior. 
The Johnsons were said to be stirring up the Indians in the western 
parts of New York to hostility, and preparing to join the British 
forces in Canada; so that, while the patriots were battling for their 
rights along the seaboard, they were menaced by a powerful com- 
bination in rear. 

Both Allen and Arnold were ambitious of further laurels. Both 
were anxious to lead an expedition into Canada ; and Ticonderoga 
and Crown Point would open the way to it. " The Key is ours," 
writes Allen to the New York Congress. " If the colonies would 
suddenly push an army of two or three thousand men into Canada, 
they might make an easy conquest of all that would oppose them, 
in the extensive province of Quebec, except a reinforcement from 



190 LIFE OF WASHING TO A*. 

England should prevent it. Such a div^ersion would weaken Gage, 
and insure us Canada. I wish to God America would, at this 
critical juncture, exert herself agreeably to the indignity offered 
her by a tyrannical ministry. She might rise on eagles' wings, and 
mount up to glory, freedom, and immortal honor, if she did but 
know and exert her strength. Fame is now hovering over her 
head. A vast continent must now sink to slavery, poverty, horror 
and bondage, or rise to unconquerable freedom, immense wealth, 
inexpressible felicity, and immortal fame. I will lay my life on it, 
that with fifteen hundred men, and a proper train of artillery, I 
will take Montreal. Provided I could be thus furnished, and if an 
army could command the field, it would be no insuperable 
difficulty to take Quebec." 

Arnold urged the same project, but in less magniloquent 
language, upon the attention of the Continental Congress, His 
letter was dated from Crown Point ; where he had a Uttle squadron, 
composed of the sloop captured at St, Johns, a schooner, and a 
flotilla of bateaux. All these he had equipped, armed, manned, 
and officered ; and his crews were devoted to him. In his letter to 
the Continental Congress he gave information concerning Canada, 
collected through spies and agents, Carleton, he said, had not six 
hundred effective men under him. The Canadians and Indians 
were disaffected to the British Government, and Montreal was 
ready to throw open its gates to a patriot force. Two thousand 
men, he was certain, would be sufficient to get possession of the 
province. 

At this juncture arrived a committee of three members of the 
Congress of Massachusetts, sent by that body to inquire into the 
manner in which he had executed his instructions ; complaints 
having been made of his arrogant and undue assumption of com- 
mand, Arnold was thunderstruck at being subjected to inquiry, 
when he had expected an ovation. He requested a sight of the 
committee's instructions. The sight of them only increased his 
indignation. They were to acquaint themselves with the manner 
in which he had executed his commission ; with his spirit, capacity, 
and conduct. Should they think proper, they might order him to 
return to Massachusetts, to render account of the moneys, 
ammunition and stores he had received, and the debts he had con- 
tracted on behalf of the colony. While at Ticonderoga, he and 
his men were to be under command of the principal officer from 
Connecticut. 

Arnold was furious. He swore he would be second in command 
to no one, disbanded his men, and threw up his commission. 
Quite a scene ensued. His men became turbulent ; some refused 
to serve under any other leader; others clamored for their pay, 
which was in arrears. Part joined Arnold on board of the vessels 
which were drawn out into the lake ; and among other ebullitions 
of passion, there was a threat of sailing for St. Johns, At length 
the storm was allayed by the interference of several of the officers, 
and the assurances of the committee that every man should be 
paid. A part of them enlisted under Colonel Easton, and Arnold 




MAKQUIS DE LAFAYETTE. 



1775] CANADA TO BE INVADED. 191 

set off for Cambridge to settle his accounts with the committee of 

safety. 

The project of an invasion of Canada, urged by Allen and 
Arnold, had at first met with no favor, the Continental Congress 
having formally resolved to make no hostile attempts upon that 
province. Intelligence subsequently received, induced it to change 
its plans. Carleton was said to be strengthening the fortifications 
and garrison at St. Johns, and preparing to launch vessels on the 
lake wherewith to regain command of it, and retake the captured 
posts. Powerful reinforcements were coming from England and 
elsewhere. Guy Johnson was holding councils with the fierce 
Cayugas and Senecas, and stirring up the Six Nations to hostility. 
On the other hand, Canada was full of religious and political dis- 
sensions. The late exploits of the Americans on Lake Champlain 
had produced a favorable effect on the Canadians, who would flock 
to the patriot standard if unfurled among them by an imposing 
force. Now was the time to strike a blow to paralyze all hostility 
from this quarter; now, while Carleton's regular force was weak, 
and before the arrival of additional troops. Influenced by these 
considerations. Congress now determined to extend the revolution 
into Canada, but it was an enterprise too important to be intrusted 
to any but discreet hands. General Schuyler, then in New York, 
was accordingly ordered, on the 27th of June, to proceed to 
Ticonderoga, and " should he find it practicable, and not disagree- 
able to the Canadians, immediately to take possession of St. Johns 
and Montreal, and pursue such other measures in Canada as might 
have a tendency to promote the peace and security of these 
provinces." 

Schuyler arrived at Ticonderoga on the i8th of July. A letter, 
to Washington, to whom, as commander-in-chief, he made con- 
stant reports, gives a striking picture of a frontier post in those 
crude days of the Revolution. 

" You will expect that I should say something about this place 
and the troops here. Not one earthly thing for offence or defence 
has been done ; the commanding officer has no orders ; he only 
came to reinforce the garrisojt, and he expected the general. 
About ten last night I arrived at the landing-place, at the north 
end of Lake George ; a post occupied by a captain and one hun- 
dred men. A sentinel, on being informed that I was in the boat, 
quitted his post to go and awaken the guard, consisting of three 
men, in which he had no success. I walked up and came to 
another, a sergeant's guard. Here the sentinel challenged, but 
suffered me to come up to him ; the whole guard, like the first, in 
the soundest sleep. With a penknife only I could have cut off 
both guards, and then have set fire to the block house, destroyed 
the stores, and starved the people here. At this post I had 
pointedly recommended vigilance and care, as all the stores from 
Lake George must necessarily be landed here. But I hope to get 
the better of this inattention. The officers and men are all good- 
looking people and decent in their deportment, and I really believe 
will make good soldiers as soon as I can get the better of this 



192 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

nonchalance of theirs. Bravery, I believe, they are far from want- 
ing." 

Colonel Hinman was in temporary command at Ticonderoga, if 
that could be called a command where none seemed to obey. The 
garrison was about twelve hundred strong ; the greater part Con- 
necticut men brought by himself ; some were New York troops, 
and some few Green Mountain Boys. Schuyler, on taking com- 
mand, dispatched a confidential agent into Canada, Major John 
Brown, an American, who resided on the Sorel River, and was 
popular among the Canadians. He was to collect information as 
to the British forces and fordfications, and to ascertain how an in- 
vasion and an attack on St. Johns would be considered by the peo- 
ple of the province : in the mean time, Schuyler set diligently to work 
to build boats and prepare for the enterprise, should it ultimately 
be ordered by Congress. Ethan Allen arrived, as a volunteer, and 
was accepted by Schuyler, to act as a pioneer on the Canadian 
frontier. From his agent Major Brown, and from other sources, 
he had learned that there were but about three hundred troops at 
St. Johns, about fifty at (2uebec, and three hundred and fifty at 
Montreal, Chamblee, and the upper posts. Colonel Guy Johnson 
was at Montreal with three hundred men, mostly his tenants, and 
with a number of Indians. Two batteries had been finished at St. 
Johna, mounting nine guns each : other works were intrenched 
and spicketed. Two large row galleys were on the stocks, and 
would soon be finished. Now was the time, according to his in- 
formants to carry Canada. It might be done with great ease and 
little cost. The Canadians were disaffected to British rule, and 
would join the Americans, and so would many of the Indians. "I 
am prepared," writes he to Washington, "to move against the 
enemy, unless your Excellency and Congress should direct other- 
wise. In the course of a few days I expect to receive the ultimate 
determitiation. Whatever it may be, I shall try to execute it in 
such a manner as will promote the just cause in which we are en- 
gaged." 

While awaiting orders on this head, he repaired to Albany, to 
hold a conference and negotiate a treaty with the Caughnawagas, 
and the warriors of the Six Nations, whom, as one of the com- 
missioners of Indian affairs, he had invited to meet him at thai 
place. General Richard Montgomery was to remain in command 
at Ticonderoga during his absence, and to urge forward the mili- 
tary preparations. 

General Montgomery was of a good family in the north of Ire- 
land, where he was born in 1736. He entered the army when 
about eighteen years of age ; served in America in the French 
war ; won a lieutenancy by gallant conduct at Louisburg ; followed 
General Amherst to Lake Champlain, and, after the conquest of 
Canada, was promoted to a captaincy for his services in the West 
Indies, After the peace of Versailles he resided in England ; but 
about three years before the breaking out of the Revolution, he 
sold out his comm.ission in the army and emigrated to New York. 
Here he married the eldest daughter of Judge Robert R. Livings- 



1775] GENERAL MONTGOMERY. 193 

ton, of the Clerniont branch of that family ; and took up his 
residence on an estate which he had purchased in Dutchess 
County on the banks of the Hudson. Being known to be in favor 
of the popular cause, he was drawn reluctantly from his rural 
abode, to represent his county in the first convention of the 
province ; and on the recent organization of the anny, his military 
reputation gained him the unsought commission of Brigadier-Gen- 
eral He was about thirty-nine years of age, and the beau ideal 
of a soldier. His form was well proportioned and vigorous ; his 
countenance expressive and prepossessing ; he was cool and dis- 
criminating in council, energetic and fearless in action. His princi- 
ples commanded the respect of friends and foes, and he was noted 
for winning the affections of the soldiery. 

While these thing were occurring at Ticonderoga, several In- 
dian chiefs made their appearance in the camp at Cambridge. 
They came in savage state and costume, as ambassadors from their 
respective tribes, to have a talk about the impending invasion of 
Canada. One was chief of the Caughnawaga tribe, whose 
residence was on the banks of the St. Lawrence, six miles above 
Montreal. Others were from St. Francis, about forty-five leagues 
above Quebec, and were of a warlike tribe, from which hostilities 
had been especially apprehended. Washington, accustomed to 
deal with the red warriors of the wilderness, received them with 
great ceremonial. They dined at head-quarters among his officers, 
and it is observed that to some of the latter they might have served 
as models ; such was their grave dignity and decorum. A council 
fire was held. The sachems all offered, on behalf of their tribes, 
to take up the hatchet for the Americans, should the latter invade 
Canada. The offer was embarrassing. Congress had publicly 
resolved to seek nothing but neutrality from the Indian nations, 
unless the ministerial agents should make an offensive alliance with 
them. The chief of the St. Francis tribe declared that Governor 
Carleton had endeavored to persuade him to take up the hatchet 
against the Americans, but in vain. "As our ancestors gave this 
country to you," added he grandly, "we would not have you 
destroyed by England ; but are ready to afford you our assistance." 
Washington wished to be certain of the conduct of the enemy, 
before he gave a reply to these Indian overtures. He wrote by 
express, therefore, to General Schuyler, requesting him to ascer- 
tain the intentions of the British governor with respect to the native 
tribes. He also proposed an expidition against Quebec, by way of 
Kennebec river. The express found Schuyler in Albany, where he 
had been attending the conference with the Six Nations. He declared 
his conviction, from various accounts which he had received, that 
Carleton and his agents were exciting the Indian tribes to hostility. 
'I should, therefore not hesitate one moment," to employ any 
savages that might be willing to join us>" 

The siege of Boston had been kept up for several weeks without 
any remarkable occurrence. The British remained within their 
lines, diligently strengthening them ; the besiegers, having received- 
further supplies of ammunition, were growing impatient of a state 



194 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

of inactivity. Washington detached fourteen hundred men to 
seize at night upon a height within musket shot of the enemy's 
Une on Charlestown Neck. The task was executed with silence 
and celerity, and by daybreak the hill presented to the astonished 
foe the aspect of a fortified post. The British opened a heavy can- 
nonade from Bunker's Hill, but kept within their works. The 
Americans, scant of ammunition, could only reply with a single 
nine-pounder ; this, however, sank one of the floating batteries 
which guarded the neck. They went on to complete and 
strengthen this advanced post, exposed to daily cannonade and 
bombardment, which, however, did but little injury. 

In the meantime, as it was evident the enemy did not intend to 
come out, but were only strengthening their defences and prepar- 
ing for winter, Washington was enabled to turn his attention to the 
expedition to be sent into Canada by the way of the Kennebec 
River. A detachment of about eleven hundred men, chosen for 
the purpose, was soon encamped on Cambridge Common. There 
were ten companies of New England infantry, some of them from 
General Greene's Rhode Island regiments ; three rifle companies 
from Pennsylvania and Virginia, one of them Captain Daniel Mor- 
gan's famous company ; and a number of volunteers ; among whom 
was Aaron Burr, then but twenty years of age, and just commenc- 
ing his varied, brilliant, but ultimately unfortunate career. 

The proposed expedition was wild and perilous, and required a 
hardy, skillful and intrepid leader. Such a one was at hand. 
Benedict Arnold was at Cambridge, occupied in settHng his 
accounts with the Massachusetts committee of safety. These 
were nearly adjusted. Whatever faults may have been found with 
his conduct in some particulars, his exploits on Lake Champlain had 
atoned for them ; for valor in time of war covers a multitude of 
sins. Washington had given him an honorable reception at head- 
quarters, and now considered him the very man for the present 
enterprise. He had shown aptness for military service, whether 
on land or water. He was acquainted, too, with Canada, and 
especially Avith Quebec, having, in the course of his checkered life 
traded in horses between that place and the West Indies. With 
these considerations he intrusted him with the command of the 
expedition, giving him the commission of heutenant-colonel in the 
continental aniiy. As he would be intrusted Avith dangerous pow- 
ers, Washington, beside a general letter of instructions, addressed 
a special one to him individually, full of cautious and considerate 
advice. In the general letter of instructions, Washington, inserted 
the following clause. "If Lord Chatham's son should be in Can- 
ada, and in any way fall into your power, you are enjoined to treat 
him with all possible deference and respect. You cannot err in 
paying too much honor to the son of so illustrious a character and 
so true a friend to America." 

Arnold was furnished with hand-bills for distribution in Canada, 
setting forth the friendly objects of the present expedition, as well 
as of that under General Schuyler ; and calling on the Canadians 



1775] SCHUYLER ON THE SOREL. 195 

to furnish necessaries and accommodations of every kind ; for 
which they were assured ample compensation. 

On the 13th of September, Arnold struck his tents, and set out in 
high spirits. Washington enjoined upon him to push forward as 
rapidly as possible, success depending upon celerity ; and counted 
the days as they elapsed after his departure, impatient to receive 
tidings of his progress up the Kennebec, and expecting that the 
expedition would reach Quebec about the middle of October. In 
the interim came letters from General Schuyler, giving particulars 
of the main expedition. 

In a preceding chapter we left the general and his little army at 
the Isle aux Noix, near the Sorel River, the outlet of the lake. 
Thence, on the 5th of September, he sent Colonel Ethan Allen and 
Major Brown to reconnoiter the country between that river and the 
St. Lawrence, to distribute friendly addresses among the people 
and ascertain their feelings. This done, and having landed his 
baggage and provisions,.the general proceeded along the Sorel 
River the next day with his boats, until within two miles of St. 
Johns, when a cannonade was opened from the fort. 

In the night the camp was visited secretly, by a person who 
informed General Schuyler of the state of the fort. The works were 
completed, and furnished with cannon. A vessel pierced for six- 
teen guns was launched, and would be ready to sail in three or four 
days. It was not probable that any Canadians would join the 
army, being disposed to remain neutral. This intelligence being dis- 
cussed in a council of war in the morning, it was determined that 
they had neither men nor artillery sufficient to undertake a seige. 
They returned, therefore, to the Isle aux Noix, cast up fortifica- 
tions, and threw a boom across the channel of the river to prevent 
the passage of the enemy's vessels into the lake, and awaited the 
arrival of artillery and reinforcements from Ticonderoga. In the 
course of a few days the expected reinforcements arrived and with 
them a small train of artillery, Ethan Allen also returned from 
his reconnoitering expedition, of which he made a most enourag- 
ing report. The Canadian captains of militia were ready, he sartd, 
to join the Americans, whenever they should appear with sufficient 
force. He had held talks, too, with the Indians, and found them 
well disposed. Preparations were now made for the investment of 
St. Johns by land and water. Major Brown, who had already 
acted as a scout, was sent with one hundred Americans, and about 
thirty Canadians toward Chamblee, to make friends in that quarter, 
and to join the army as soon as it should arrive at St. Johns. To 
quiet the restless activity of Ethan Allen, who had no command 
in the army, he was sent with an escort of thirty men to retrace his 
steps, penetrate to La Prairie, and beat up for recruits among the 
people whom he had recently visited. For some lime past, Gen- 
eral Schuyler had been struggling with a complication of maladies, 
but exerting himself to the utmost in the harassing business of the 
camp, still hoping to be able to move with the army. When every- 
thing was nearly ready, he was attacked in the night by a severe 
access of his disorder, which confined him to his bed, and com- 



196 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

pelled him to surrender the conduct of the expedition to Gen- 
eral Montgomery. Since he could beof no further use, therefore, 
in this quarter, he caused his bed to be placed on a broad covered 
bateau, and set off for Ticonderoga, to hasten forward reinforce- 
ments and supplies. 

On the 1 6th of September, the day after Schuyler's departure for 
Ticonderoga, Montgomery proceeded to carry out the plans which 
had been concerted between tliem. Landing on the i/tli at the, 
place where they had formerly encamped, within a mile and a 
half of the fort, he detached a force of five hundred men. 

St. Johns had a garrison of five or six hundred regulars and two 
hundred Canadian militia. Its commander. Major P*reston, made a 
brave resistance. Montgomery had not proper battering cannon ; 
his mortars were defective ; his artillerists unpracticed, and the engi- 
neer ignorant of the first principles of his art. The seige went on 
slowly, until the arrival of an artillery company under Captain 
Lamb, expedited from Saratoga by General Schuyler. Lamb, who 
was an able officer, immediately bedded a thirteen-inch mortar, 
and commenced a fire of shot and shells upon the fort. The dis- 
tance, however, was too great, and the positions of the batteries 
were ill chosen. 

Allen w as on his w ay tOAvards St. Johns, when, between Longueil 
and La Prairie, he met Colonel Brown with his party of Americans 
and Canadians. A conversation took place between them. Brown 
assured him that the garrison at Montreal did not exceed thirty 
men, and might easily be surprised. Allen's partisan spiiit was 
instantly excited. Here was a chance for another bold stroke 
equal to that at Ticonderoga, A plan was forthwith agreed upon. 
Allen was to return to Longueil, which is nearly opposite Montreal, 
and cross the St. Lawrence in canoes in the night, so as to land a 
httle below the town. Brown, with two hundred men, was to 
cross above, and Montreal was to be attacked simultaneously at 
opposite points. 

All this was arranged and put in action without the consent or 
knowledge of General Montgomery ; Allen was again the partisan 
leader, acting from individual impulse. His late letter also to Gen- 
eral Montgomery, would seem to have partaken of fanfaronade ; for 
the whole force with which he undertook his part of this inconsider- 
ate enterprise, was thirty Americans, and eighty Canadians. With 
these he crossed the river on the 24th of September, the few canoes 
found at Longueil having to pass to and fro repeatedly, before his 
petty force could be landed. Guards were stationed on the roads 
to prevent any one passing and giving the alarm in Montreal. Day 
dawned, but there was no signal of Major Brown having perform- 
ed his part of the scheme. The enterprise seems to have been as 
ill concerted, as it was ill advised. The day advanced, but still 
no signal ; it was evident Major Brown had not crossed. Allen 
would gladly have recrossed the river, but it was too late. An alarm 
had been given to the town, and he soon found himself encoun- 
tered by about forty regular soldiers, and a hasty levy of Canadians 
and Indians. A smart action ensued ; most of Allen's Canadian 



1775] ANNOYANCES OF SCHUYLER. 197 

recruits gave way and fled, a number of Americans were slain, 
and he at length surrendered to Maj. Campbell, the British officer, 
who considered them as little better than a band of freebooters on a 
maraud. Their leader, albeit a colonel, must have seemed worthy 
of the band ; for Allen was arrayed in rough frontier style ; a 
deerskin jacket, a vest and breeches of coarse serge, worsted stock- 
ings, stout shoes, and a red woolen cap. 

We give Allen's own account of his reception by the British offi- 
cer. "He asked me my name, which I told him. He then asked 
me whether I was that Colonel Allen who took Ticonderoga. I 
told him I was the very man. Then he shook his cane over my 
head, calling me many hard names, among which, he frequently 
used the word rebel, and put himself in a great rage." 

Ethan Allen, according to his own account, answered with 
becoming spirit. Indeed, he gives somewhat of a melodramatic 
scene, which ended by his being sent on board of the Gaspee 
schooner of war, heavily ironed, to be transported to England for 
trial; Prescott giving him the parting assurance, sealed with an 
emphatic oath, that he would grace a halter at Tyburn. 

Neither Allen's courage nor his rhetorical vein deserted him on 
this trying occasion. From his place of confinement, he indited 
the following epistle to the general : — 

"Honorable Sir, — In the wheel of transitory events I find 
myself prisoner, and in irons. Probably your honor has certain 
reasons to me inconceivable, though I challenge an instance of this 
sort of economy of the Americans during the late war to any offi- 
cers of the crown. On my part, I have to assure your honor, that 
when I had the command and took Captain Delaplace and Lieu- 
tenant Fulton, with the garrison of Ticonderoga, I treated them 
with every mark of friendship and generosity, the evidence of which 
is notorious, even in Canada. I have only to add, that I expect an 
honorable and humane treatment, as an officer of my rank and 
merit should have, and subscribe myself your honor's most obedi- 
ent servant, "Ethan Allen." 

In the British publication from which we cite the above, the fol- 
lowing note is appended to the letter, probably on the authority of 
General Prescott: "N. B. — The author of the above letter is an 
outlaw, and a reward is offered by the New York Assembly for 
apprehending him." — [Remembrancer, ii, 51I. 

The reckless dash at Montreal was viewea with concern by the 
American commander. "I am apprehensive of disagreeable con- 
sequences arising from Mr. Allen's imprudence," writes General 
Schuyler. "I always dreaded his impatience of subordination, 
and it was not until after a solemn promise made me in the pres- 
ence of several officers, that he would demean himself with propri- 
ety, that I would permit him to attend the army ; nor would I have 
consented then, had not his solicitations been backed by several offi- 
cers." The conduct of Allen was also severely censured by Wash- 
ington. "His misfortune," said he, "will, I hope, teach a lesson of 



198 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

prudence and subordination to others who may be ambitious to 
outshine their general officers, and, regardless of order and duty, 
rush into enterprises which have unfavorable effects on the public, 
and are destructive to themselves." 

Washington received a dispatch from Arnold dated October 13th, 
from the great portage or carrying-place between the Kennebec 
and Dead Rivers. The toils of the expedition up the Kennebec 
River had indeed been excessive. Part of the men of each divis- 
ion managed the boats — part marched along the banks. Those on 
board had to labor against swift currents ; to unload at rapids, 
transport the cargoes, and sometimes the boats themselves, for 
some distance on their shoulders, and then to reload. They were 
days in making their way round stupendous cataracts ; several 
times their boats were upset and filled with water, to the loss or 
damage of arms, ammunition, and provisions. 

Those on land had to scramble over rocks and precipices, to 
struggle through swamps and fenny streams ; or cut their way 
through tangled thickets, which reduced their clothes to rags. 
With all their efforts, their progress was but from four to ten miles 
a day. At night the men of each division encamped together. 
By the time they arrived at the place whence the letter was writ- 
ten, fatigue, swamp fevers and desertion had reduced their num- 
bers to about nine hundred and fifty effective men. Arnold, how- 
ever, wrote in good heart. "The last division," said he, "is just 
arrived ; three divisions are over the first carrying-place, and as 
the men are in high spirits, I make no doubt of reaching the river 
Chaudiere in eight or ten days, the greatest difficulty being, I hope, 
already past." 

While the two expeditions were threatening Canada from dif- 
ferent quarters, the war was going on along the seaboard. The 
British in Boston, cut off from supplies by land, fitted out small 
armed vessels to seek them along the coast of New England. The 
inhabitants drove their cattle into the interior, or boldly resisted 
the aggressors. Parties landing to forage were often repulsed by 
hasty levies of the yeomanry. Scenes of ravage and violence 
occurred. Stonington was cannonaded, and further measures of 
vengeance were threatened by Captain Wallace of the Rose man- 
of-war, a naval officer, who had acquired an almost piratical 
reputation along the coast, and had his rendezvous in the harbor of 
Newport, domineering over the waters of Rhode Island. 

To check these maraudings, and to capture the enemy's trans- 
ports laden with supplies, the provinces of Masachusetts, Rhode 
Island and Connecticut, fitted out two armed vessels each, at their 
own expense, without seeking the sanction or aid of Congress. 
Washington, also, on his own responsibility, ordered several to be 
equipped for like purpose, which were to be manned by hardy 
mariners, and commanded by able sea captains, actually serving 
in the army. Among the sturdy little New England seaports, 
which had become obnoxious to punishment by resistance to 
nautical exactions, was Falmouth (now P®rtland), in Maine. On 
the evening of the nth of October, Lieutenant Mowat, of the royal 



1 775-] GAGE RETURNS TO ENGLAND. 199 

navy, appeared before it with several armed vessels, and sent a 
letter on shore, apprising the inhabitants that he was come to 
execute a just punishment on them for their "premeditated attacks 
on the legal prerogatives of the best of sovereigns." The lieuten- 
ant next offered to spare the town on certam conditions, which 
were refused. About half-past nine o'clock Oct 12, the red pendant 
was run up to the mast-head, and the signal gun fired. Within 
five minutes several houses were in flames, from a discharge of 
carcasses and bombshells, which continued throughout the day. 
The inhabitants, "standing on the heights, were spectators of the 
conflagration, which reduced many of them to penury and 
despair." 139 houses and 228 stores are said to have been burned. 

General Sullivan was sent to Portsmouth, where there was a 
fortification of some strength, to give the inhabitants his advice and 
assistance in warning off the menaced blow. Newport, also, was 
put on the alert, and recommended to fortify itself. "I expect 
every hour," writes Washington, "to hear that Newport has 
shared the same fate of unhappy Falmouth." Under the feehng 
roused by these reports, the General Court of Massachusetts, 
exercising a sovereign power, passed an act for encouraging the 
fitting out of armed vessels to defend the sea-coast of America, and 
for erecting a court to try and condemn all vessels that should be 
found infesting the same. This act, granting letters of marque 
and reprisal, anticipated any measure of the kind on the part of the 
General Government, and was pronounced by John Adams, "one 
of the most important documents in history." General Gage 
sailed for England on the loth of October. The tidipgs of the 
battle of Bunker's Hill had withered his laurels as a commander. 
He never returned to America. 

General Howe took command in Boston. He proceeded to 
strengthen the works on Bunker's Hill and Boston Neck, and to 
clear away houses and throw up redoubts on eminences within the 
town. The patriot inhabitants were shocked by the desecration of 
the Old South Church, which for more than a hundred years had 
been a favorite place of worship, where some of the most eminent 
divines had officiated. The pulpit and pews were now removed, 
the floor was covered with earth, and the sacred edifice was con- 
verted into a riding-school for Burgoyne's light dragoons. The 
North Church, another "meeting-house," was entirely demolished 
and used for fuel. 

Washington had recently been incensed by the conflagration of 
Falmouth ; the conduct of Governor Dunmore, who had pro- 
claimed martial law in Virginia, and threatened ruin to the patriots, 
had added to his provocation ; the measures of General Howe 
seemed of the same harsh character, and he determined to retaliate. 

In this spirit he ordered General Sullivan, who was fortifying 
Portsmouth, "to seize upon such persons as held commissions 
under the crown, and were acting as open and avowed enemies to 
their country, and hold them as hostages for the security of the 
town." Still he was moderate in his retaliation, and stopped short 
of private individuals. Washington had been embarrassed through- 



20O LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

out the siege by the want of artillery and ordnance stores ; but 
never more so than at the present moment. In this juncture, Mr. 
Henry Knox stepped forward, and offered to proceed to the 
frontier forts on Champlain in quest of a supply. He was one of 
those providential characters which spring up in emergencies, as 
if they were formed by and for the occasion. A thriving book- 
seller in Boston, he had thrown up business to take up arms for the 
liberties of his country. He was one of the patriots who had 
fought on Bunker's Hill, since when he had aided in planning the 
defences of the camp before Boston. 

No one drew closer to Washington in this time of his troubles and 
perplexities than General Greene. He had a real veneration for 
his character, and thought himself " happy in an opportunity to 
serve under so good a General." He grieved at Washington's 
annoyances, but attributed them in part to his being somewhat of a 
stranger in New England, 

Dispatches from Schuyler dated October 26th gave Washing- 
ton another chapter of the Canada expedition. Chamblee, an infer- 
ior fort, within five miles of St. Johns, had been taken by Majors 
Brown and Livingston at the head of fifty Americans and three 
hundred Canadians. A large quantity of gunpowder and other 
military stores found there was a seasonable supply to the army 
before St. Johns, and consoled General Montgomery for his 
disappointment in regard to the aid promised by Colonel Ethan 
Allen. He now pressed the siege of St. Johns with vigor. The 
garrison, cut off from supplies, were suffering from want of 
provisions ; but the brave commander. Major Preston, still held 
out manfully, hoping speedy relief from General Carleton, who on 
the 30th of September, had embarked a motley force at Montreal 
in thirty-four boats, to cross the St. Lawrence, land at Longueil, 
and push on for St. Johns, where, as concerted, he was to be 
joined by Maclean and his Highlanders. As the boats approached 
the right bank of the river at Longueil, a terrible fire of artillery and 
musketry was unexpectedly opened upon them, and threw them 
into confusion. It was from Colonel Seth Warner's detachment of 
Green Mountain Boys and New Yorkers. Some of the boats were 
disabled, some were driven on shore on an island ; Carleton 
retreated with the rest to Montreal, with some loss in killed and 
wounded. Four prisoners carried the tidings to the camp. 
Aware that the garrison held out merely in expectation of the 
relief thus intercepted, Montgomery ceased his fire, and sent a 
flag by one of the Canadian prisoners with a letter informing 
Major Preston of the event, and inviting a surrender to spare the 
effusion of blood. The gallant major was obliged to capitulate. 
His garrison consisted of five hundred regulars and one hundred 
Canadians, including several provincial noblesse. Montgomery 
treated Preston and his garrison with the courtesy inspired by their 
gallant resistance. Having sent his prisoners up Lake Champlain 
to Ticonderoga, he prepared to proceed immediately to Montreal ; 
requesting General Schuyler to forward all the men he could pos- 
sibly spare. 




BARON STEUBEN. 



1 775-] SLrCC£SS£S OF THE AMERICANS. 201 

The transportation of troops and effects across the carrying-place 
between the Kennebec and Dead Rivers had been a work of 
severe toil and difficulty to Arnold and his men, but performed 
with admirable spirit. There were ponds and streams full of trout 
and salmon, which furnished them with fresh provisions. Launch- 
ing their boats on the sluggish waters of the Dead River, they 
navigated it in divisions, as before, to the foot of snow-crowned 
mountains ; a part of the great granite chain which extends from 
south-west to north-east throughout our continent. Here, while 
Arnold and the first division were encamped to repose themselves, 
heavy rains set in, and they came near being swept away by 
sudden torrents from the mountains. Several of their boats were 
overturned, much of their provisions was lost, the sick list in- 
creased, and the good spirits which had hitherto sustained them 
began to give away. They were on scanty allowance, with a pros- 
pect of harder times, for there were still twelve or fifteen days of 
wilderness before them, where no supplies were to be had. A 
council of war was now held, in which it was determined to send back 
the sick and disabled, who were mere incumbrances. Arnold, 
accordingly, wrote to the commanders of the other divisions, to 
press on with as many of their men as they could furnish w ith pro- 
visions for fifteen days, and to send the rest back to a place on 
the route called Norridgewock. This order was misunderstood, or 
misinterpreted by Colonel Enos, who commanded the rear division ; 
he gave all the provisions he could spare to Colonel Greene of the 
third division, retaining merely enough to supply his own corps of 
three hundred men on their way back to Norridgewock, whither he 
immediately returned. 

Washington was not mistaken in the confidence he had placed in 
the energy of Arnold. Though the latter found his petty force 
greatly reduced by the retrograde move of Enos and his party, 
and although snow and ice rendered his march still more bleak 
among the mountains, he kept on with unflirnihing spirit until he 
arrived at the ridge which divides the streams of New England 
and Canada. Here, at Lake Megantic, the source of the 
Chaudiere, he met an emissary whom he had sent in advance to 
ascertain the feelings of the habitans, or French yeomanry, in the 
fertile valley of that stream. His report being favorable, Arnold 
shared out among the different companies the scanty provisions 
which remained, directing them to make the best of their way for 
the Chaudiere settlements ; while he, with a light foraging party, 
would push rapidly ahead, to procure and send back supplies. 
He accordingly embarked with his little party in five bateaux and 
a birch canoe, and launched forth without a guide on the swift 
current of the Chaudiere. It was little better than a mountain tor- 
rent, full of rocks and rapids. Three of their boats were dashed to 
pieces, the cargoes lost, and the crews saved with difficulty. At one 
time, the whole party came near being precipitated over a cataract, 
where all might have perished ; at length they reached Sertigan, 
the first French settlement, where they were cordially received. 
Here Arnold bought provisions, which he sent back by the Cana- 



202 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

dians and Indians to his troops. The latter were in a state of 
starvation. Some had not tasted food for eight and forty hours ; 
others had cooked two dogs, followers of the camp ; and others 
had boiled their moccasins, cartouch boxes, and other articles of 
leather, in the hope of rendering them eatable, Arnold halted for 
a short time in the hospitable valleys of the Chaudiere, to give his 
troops repose, and distributed among the inhabitants the printed 
manifesto with which he had been furnished by Washington. 
Here he was joined by about forty Norridgewock Indians. On the 
9th of November, the little army emerged from the woods at Point 
Levi, on the St. Lawrence, opposite to Quebec. Montgomery ap- 
peared before Montreal on the 12th of November. General 
Carleton had embarked with his little garrison, and several of the 
civil officers of the place, on board of a flotilla of ten or eleven 
small vessels, and made sail in the niglii, with a favorable breeze, 
carrying away with them the powder and other important stores. 
The town capitulated, of course ; and Montgomery took quiet pos- 
session. His urbanity and kindness soon won the good will of the 
inhabitants, both English and French, and made the Canadians 
sensible that he really came to secure their rights, not to molest 
them. Intercepted letters acquainted him with Arnold's arrival in 
the neighborhood of Quebec. The flotilla in which Carleton was 
embarked had made repeated attempts to escape down the St. 
Lawrence ; but had as often been driven back by the batteries 
thrown up by the Americans at the mouth of the Sorel. It now lay 
anchored about fifteen miles above that river ; and Montgomery 
prepared to attack it with bateaux and light ardllery, so as to force 
It down upon the batteries. Carleton saw his imminent peril. 
Disguising himself as a Canadian voyager, he set off on a dark 
night accompanied by six peasants, in a boat with muffled oars, 
which he assisted to pull ; slipped quietly and silently past all the 
batteries and guard-boats, and effected his escape to Three Rivers, 
where he embarked in a vessel for Quebec. After his departure 
the flotilla surrendered, 

Montgomery now placed garrisons in Montreal, St. Johns and 
Chamblee, and made final preparations for descending the St. 
Lawrence, and cooperating with Arnold against Quebec. To his 
disappointment and deep chagrin; he found but a handful of his 
troops disposed to accompany him. 

On Dec. 2d, a long, lumbering train of wagons, laden with ordi- 
nance and military stores, and decorated with flags, came wheeling 
into Washington's camp, escorted by continental troops and mili- 
tia. They were part of the cargo of a large brigantine laden with 
munitions of war, captured and sent in to Cape Ann by the schooner 
Lee, Captain Manly, one of the cruisers sent out by Washington. 
" Such universal joy ran through the whole camp," writes an offi- 
cer, "as if each one grasped a victory in his own hands." Beside 
the ordnance captured, there were two thousand stand of arms, 
one hundred thousand flints, thirty thousand round shot, and 
thirty-two tons of musket balls. 

Amid the various concerns of the war, and the multiplied per- 



1 7 7S-] AFFAIRS A T MO UNT VERNON, 203 

plexities of the camp, the thoughts of Washington continually 
reverted to his home on the banks of the Potomac. A constant 
correspondence was kept up between him and his agent, Mr. Lund 
Washington, who had charge of his various estates. The general 
gave clear and minute directions as to their management. He 
wrote : " Let the hospitality of the house with respect to the poor 
be kept up. Let no one go hungry away. If any of this kind of 
people should be in want of corn, supply their necessaries, pro- 
vided it does not encourage them to idleness ; and I have no objec- 
tion to your giving my money in charity to the amount of forty or 
fifty pounds a year, when you think it well bestowed. What I 
mean by having no objection is, that it is my desire it should be 
done. You are to consider that neither myself nor wife is now in 
the way to do those good offices." 

Mrs. Washington came on in November, with her own carriage 
and horses, accompanied by her son, Mr. Custis, and his wife, to 
join Washington at the camp. She traveled by very easy stages, 
partly on account of the badness of the roads, partly out of regard 
to the horses, of which Washington was always very careful, and 
which were generally remarkable for beauty and excellence. 
Escorts and guards of honor attended her from place to place, and 
she was detained some time at Philadelphia, by the devoted atten- 
tion of the inhabitants. Her arrival at Cambridge was a glad 
event in the army. Incidental mention is made of the equipage in 
which she appeared there. A chariot and four, with black postil- 
ions in scarlet and white liveries. It has been suggested that this 
was an English style of equipage, derived from the Fairfaxes ; but 
in truth it was a style still prevalent at that day in Virginia. 

It would appear that dinner invitations to head-quarters were 
becoming matters of pride and solicitude. " I am much obliged 
to you," writes Washington to Reed, "for the hints respecting the 
jealousies which you say are gone abroad. I cannot charge myself 
with incivility, or what in my opinion is tantamount, ceremonious 
civiHty to gentlemen of this colony ; but if such my conduct 
appears, I will endeavor at a reformation ; as I can assure you, my 
dear Reed, that I wish to walk in such a hne as will give most gen- 
eral satisfaction. You know that it was my wish at first to invite a 
certain number to dinner, but unintentionally we somehow or other 
missed of it. If this has given rise to the jealousy, I can only say 
that I am very sorry for it ; at the same time I add, that it was 
rather owing to inattention, or more properly, too much attention 
to other matters, which caused me to neglect it." The presence of 
Mrs. Washington soon relieved the general from this kind of per- 
plexity. She presided at head-quarters with mingled dignity and 
affability, Washington had prayers morning and evening, and 
was regular in his attendance at the church in which he was a 
communicant. Not long after her arrival in camp, Mrs. Washing- 
ton claimed to keep twelfth-night in due style, as the anniversary of 
her wedding. " The general," says the same informant, "was some- 
what thoughtful, and said he was afraid he must refuse it." His 



204 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

objections were overcome, and twelfth-night and the wedding anni- 
versary were duly celebrated. 

John Adams gives us a picture of festivities at head-quarters, 
where he was a visitant on the recess of Congress. " I dined at 
Co\. Mifflin's with the general (Washington) and lady and a vast 
collection of other company, among whom were six or seven 
sachems and warriors of the French Caughnawaga Indians, with 
their wives and children. A savage feast they made of it ; yet 
were very polite in the Indian style. I was introduced to them by 
the general as one of the grand council at Philadelphia, which 
made them prick up their ears. They came and shook hands with 
me." 

We subjoin an anecdote from the manuscript memoir of an eye 
witness. A large party of Virginia riflemen, who had recently 
arrived in camp, were strolling about Cambridge, and viewing the 
collegiate buildings, now turned into barracks. Their half-Indian 
equipments, and fringed and ruffled hunting garbs, provoked the 
merriment of some troops from Marblehead, chiefly fishermen and 
sailors, who thought nothing equal to the round jacket and trows- 
ers. A bantering ensued between them. There Avas snow upon 
the ground, and snowballs began to fly when jokes were wanting. 
The parties waxed warm with the contest. They closed, and came 
to blows ; both sides were reinforced, and in a little while at least 
a thousand were at fisticuffs, and there was a tumult in the camp 
worthy of the days of Homer. "At this juncture," writes our 
informant, "Washington made his appearance, whether by acci- 
dent or design, I never knew. I saw none of his aids with him; 
his black servant was just behind him mounted. He threw the 
bridle of his own horse into his servant's hands, sprang from his 
seat, rushed into the thickest of the melee, seized two tall brawny 
riflemen by the throat, keeping them at arm's-length, talking to 
and shaking them." As they were from iiis own province, he may 
have felt peculiarly responsible for their good conduct ; they were 
engaged, too, in one of those sectional brawls which were his espe- 
cial abhorrence ; his reprimand must, therefore, have been a vehe- 
ment one. He was commanding in his serenest moments, but 
irresistible in his bursts of indignation. On the present occasion, 
we are told, his appearance and strong-handed rebuke put an 
instant end to the tumult. The combatants dispersed in all direc- 
tions, and in less than three minutes none remained on the ground 
but the two he had collared. 

Washington's last accounts of the movements of Arnold, left 
him at Point Levi, opposite to Quebec. Something brilliant from 
that daring officer was anticipated. It was his intention to cross 
the river immediately. Had he done so, he might have carried 
the town by a coup de main; for terror as well as disaffection pre- 
vailed among the inhabitants. At Point Levi, however, he was 
brought to a stand : not a boat was to be found there. Letters 
which he had dispatched some days previously, by two Indians, to 
Generals Schuyler and Montgomery, had been carried by his faith- 
less messengers to Caramhe, the lieuteiiant-governor, who, thus 



1775] ALARM IN QUEBEC, '^205 

apprised of the impending danger, had caused all the boats of Point 
Levi to be either removed or destroyed, Arnold was not a man 
to be disheartened by difficulties. With great exertions he pro- 
cured about forty birch canoes from the Canadians and Indians, 
with forty of the latter to navigate them ; but stomiy winds arose, 
and for some days the river was too boisterous for such frail craft. 
In the mean time the garrison at Quebec was gaining strength. 
The prospect of a successful attack upon the place was growing 
desperate. 

On the 13th of November, Arnold received intelligence that 
Montgomery had captured St. Johns. He was instantly roused to 
emulation. His men, too, were inspirited by the news. The wind 
had abated: he determined to cross the river that very night. At 
a late hour in the evening he embarked with the first division, 
principally riflemen. The river was wide ; the current rapid; the 
birch canoes, easy to be upset, required skilful management. By 
four o'clock in the morning, a large part of his force had crossed 
without being perceived, and landed about a mile and a half above 
Cape Diamond, at Wolfe's Cove, so called from being the landing- 
place of that gallant commander. Without waiting the arrival of 
the residue of his men, for whom the canoes had been dispatched, 
Arnold led those who had landed to the foot of the cragged defile, 
once scaled by the intrepid W^olfe, and scrambled up it in all haste. 
By daylight he had planted his daring flag on the far-famed Heights 
of Abraham. Here the main difficulty stared him in the face. A 
strong line of walls and bastions traversed the promontory from 
one of its precipitous sides to the other; inclosing the upper and 
lower towns. On the right, the great bastion of Cape Diamond 
crowned the rocky height of that name. On the left was the bas- 
tion of La Potasse, close by the gate of St. Johns opening upon the 
barracks; the gate where Wolfe's antagonist, the gallant Montcalm, 
received his death wound. A council of war was now held. Arnold, 
who had some knowledge of the place, was for dashing forward at 
once and storming the gate of St. Johns. Had they done so, they 
might have been successful. The gate was open and unguarded. 
The formidable aspect of the place, however, awed Arnold's asso- 
ciates in council. They considered that their whole force was but 
between seven and eight hundred men; that nearly one-third of 
their fire-arms had been rendered useless, and much of their 
ammunition damaged in their march through the wilderness; they 
had no artillery, and the fortress looked too strong to be carried 
by a coup de main. Cautious counsel is often fatal to a daring 
enterprise. While the council of war deliberated, the favorable 
moment passed away. The din of arms now resounded through 
the streets. The cry was up — "The enemy are on the Heights of 
Abraham! The gate of St. Johns is open! " There was an attempt 
to shut it. The keys were not to be found. It was hastily secured 
by ropes and handspikes, and the walls looking upon the heights 
were soon manned by the military, and thronged by the populace. 
Arnold paraded his men within a hundred yards of the walls, and 
caused them to give three hearty cheers ; hoping to excite a revolt 



2o6 "^LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

in the place, or to provoke the scanty garrison to a sally. There 
were a few scattered cheerings in return ; but the taunting bravado 
failed to produce a sortie ; the governor dared not venture beyond 
the walls with part of his garrison, having too httle confidence in 
the loyalty of those who would remain behind. There was some 
firing on the part of the Americans, but merely as an additional 
taunt; they were too far off" for their musketry to have effect. A 
large cannon on the ramparts was brought to bear on them. A 
few shots obliged the Americans to retire and encamp. Several 
days elapsed. Arnold's flags of truce were repeatedly insulted, 
but he saw the futihty of resenting it, and attacking the place with 
his present means. He heard about the same time of the capture 
of Montreal, and that General Carleton, having escaped from that 
place, was on his way down to Quebec. He. therefore, drew off 
on the 19th to Point aux Trembles (Aspen-tree Point), twenty 
miles above ()uebec, there to await the arrival of General Mont- 
gomery with troops and artillery. As his little army wended its 
way along the high bank of the river toward its destined encamp- 
ment, a vessel passed below, which had just touched at Point aux 
Trembles. On board of it was General Carleton, hurrying on to 
Quebec. 

Of the constant anxiety, yet enduring hope, with which Washing- 
ton watched this hazardous enterprise, we have evidence in his 
various letters. To Arnold, when at Point Levi, baffled in the 
expectation of finding the means of making a dash upon Quebec, 
he writes: •' It is not in the power of any man to command suc- 
cess, but you have done more, you have deserved it; and before 
this time (Dec. 5th), I have no doubt but a junction of your detach- 
ment with the army under General Montgomery is effected. If so, 
you will put yourself under his command and will, I am persuaded, 
give him all the assistance in your power, to finish the glorious 
work you have begun." 

In the month of December a vessel had been captured, bearing 
supplies from Lord Dunmore to the army at Boston. A letter on 
board, from his lordship to General Howe, invited him to transfer 
the war to the southern colonies; or, at all events, to send reinforce- 
ments thither; intimating at the same time his plan of proclaiming 
liberty to indentured servants, negroes, and others appertaining to 
rebels, and inviting them to join his majesty's troops. In a word 
— to inflict upon Virginia the horrors of a servile war. "If this 
man is not crushed before spring," writes Washington, "he will 
become the most formidable enemy America has. His strength 
will increase as a snowball. Motives of resentment actuate his 
conduct to a degree equal to the destruction of the colony." 

December had been throughout a month of severe trial to Wash- 
ington; during which he saw his army dropping away piece-meal 
before his eyes. Scarce could the disbanding troops be kept a few 
days in camp until militia could be procured to supply their place. 
He made repeated and animated appeals to their patriotism ; they 
were almost unheeded. He caused popular and patriot songs to 
be sung about the camp. They passed by like the idle wind. 



1776.] WASHINGTON'S PERPLEXITIES. 207 

Home ! tiome! home! throbbed in every heart. "The desire of 
retiring into a chimney-corner," says Washington reproachfully, 
"seized the troops as soon as their terms expired." Can we 
wonder at it? They were for the most part yeomanry, unused to 
military restraint, and suffering all the hardships of a starveling 
camp, almost within sight of the smpke of their own firesides. 

Greene, throughout this trying month, was continually by Wash- 
ington's side. His letters expressing the same cares and appre- 
hensions, and occasionally in the same language with those of the 
commander-in-chief, show how completely he was in his councils. 
He could well sympathize with him in his solicitudes. Some of his 
own Rhode Island troops were with Arnold in his Canada expedi- 
tion. Others encamped on Prospect Hill, and whose order and 
discipline had been his pride, were evincing the prevalent disposi- 
tion to disband. " They seem to be so sick of this way of life, and 
so homesick," writes he, " that I fear the greater part of the best 
troops from our colony will soon go home." 

The thirty-first of December arrived, the crisis of the army; for 
with that month expired the last of the old terms of enlistment. 
"We never have been so weak." writes Greene, '* as we shall be 
to-morrow, when we dismiss the old troops." On this day Wash- 
ington received cheering intelligence from Canada. A junction 
had taken place, a month previously, between Arnold and Mont- 
gomery at Point aux Trembles. They were about two thousand 
strong, and were making every preparation for attacking Quebec. 

January ist, 1776, Washington's army did not amount to ten 
thousand men, and was composed of but half-filled regiments. 
Even in raising this inadequate force, it had been necessary to 
indulge many of the men with furloughs, that they might visit their 
famihes and friends. The expedients resorted to in equipping the 
army show the prevailing lack of arms. Those soldiers who 
retired from service were obliged to leave their weapons for their 
successors; receiving their appraised value. Those who enlisted, 
were required to bring a gun, or were charged a dollar for the use 
of one during the campaign. He who brought a blanket was 
allowed two dollars. It was impossible to furnish uniforms ; the 
troops, therefore, presented a motley appearance, in garments of 
divers cuts and colors; the price of each man's garb being deducted 
from his pay. The anxiety of Washington, in this critical state of 
the army, may be judged from his correspondence with Reed. "It 
is easier to conceive than to describe the situation of my mind for 
some time past, and my feelings under our present circumstances," 
writes he on the 4th of January. "Search the volumes of history 
through, and I much question whether a case similar to ours is to 
be found; namely, to maintain a post against the power of the 
British troops for six months together, without powder, and then to 
have one army disbanded and another raised within the same dis- 
tance (musket shot) of a reinforced enemy. What may be the 
issue of the last maneuver, time only can unfold." What can be 
more touching than the picture he draws of himself and his lonely 
vigils about his sleeping camp? " The reflection on my situation 



2o8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and that of this army produces many an unhappy hour when all 
around me are wrapped in sleep. Few people know the predica- 
ment Ave are in on a thousand accounts; fewer still will believe, if 
any disaster happens to these hnes, from what cause it flows. I 
have often thought how much happier I should have been, if, 
mstead of accepting the comm'and, under such circumstances, I 
had taken my musket on my shoulder and entered the ranks; or, 
if I could have justified the measure to posterity and my own con- 
science, had retired to the back country and hved in a wigwam. 
If I shall be able to rise superior to these and many other difficulties, 
which might be enumerated, I shall most religiously believe that 
the finger of Providence is in it, to bhnd the eyes of our enemies ; 
for surely if we get well through this month, it must be for want of 
their knowing the disadvantages which we labor under." Recur- 
ring to the project of an attack upon Boston, which he had reluct- 
antly abandoned in deference to the adverse opinions of a council 
of war — " Could I have foreseen the difficulties which have come 
upon us; could I have known that such a backwardness would 
have been discovered among the old soldiers to the service, all the 
generals upon earth should not have convinced me of the propriety 
of delaying an attack upon Boston till this time. In the midst of 
his discouragements, Washington received letters from Knox, show- 
ing the spirit and energy with which he was executing his mission, 
in quest of cannon and ordnance stores. He had struggled man- 
fully and successfully with all kinds of difficulties, from the 
advanced season, and head winds, in getting them from Ticonder- 
oga to the head of Lake George. "Three days ago," writes he, 
on the 17th of December, "it was very uncertain whether we could 
get them over until next spring; but now, please God, they shall 
go. I have made forty-two exceedingly strong sleds, and have 
provided eighty yoke of oxen to drag them as far as Springfield, 
where I shall get fresh cattle to take them to camp." It was thus 
that hardships and emergencies were bringing out the merits of the 
self-made soldiers of the Revolution ; and showing their com- 
mander-in-chief on whom he might rely. 

On the 1 8th of January came dispatches from General Schuyler, 
containing withering tidings. Montgomery on the 2d of Deceni- 
ber, the day after his arrival at Point aux Trembles, set off in 
face of a driving snow-storm for Quebec, and arrived before it on 
the 5th. According to his own account, his whole force did not 
exceed nine hundred effective men, three hundred of whom he 
had brought with him ; the rest he found with Col. Arnold. The 
latter he pronounced an exceeding fine corps, inured to fatigue, 
and well accustomed to a cannon shot, having served at Cam- 
bridge. On the day of his arrival, he sent a flag with a summons 
to surrender. It was fired upon, and obliged to retire. He now 
prepared for an attack. The ground was frozen to a great depth, 
and covered with snow ; he was scantily provided with intrenching 
tools, and had only a field train of artillery, and a few mortars. 
By dint of excessive labor a breast-work was thrown up, four hun- 
dred yards distant from the walls and opposite to the gate of St. 



I 'J^6. ] MONTGOMER Y A TTA CKS Q UEBEC. 209 

Louis, which is nearly in the center. It was formed of gabions, 
ranged side by side, and filled with snow, over which water was 
thrown until thoroughly frozen. Here Captain Lamb mounted five 
light pieces and a howitzer and opened a well-sustained and well- 
directed fire upon the walls, but his field pieces were too light to 
be effective. With his howitzer he threw shells into the town and 
set it on fire in several places. For five days and nights the gar- 
rison was kept on the alert by the teasing fire of this battery. 
The object of Montgomery was to harass the town and increase 
the dissatisfaction of the inhabitants. On the evening of the fifth 
day, he paid a visit to the ice battery. The heavy artillery from 
the wall had repaid its ineffectual fire with ample usury. The brit- 
tle ramparts had been shivered hke glass ; several of the guns had 
been rendered useless. The general saw the insufficiency of the 
battery, and, on retiring, gave Captain Lamb permission to leave 
it whenever he thought proper. The veteran waited until after 
dark, when, securing all the guns, he abandoned the ruined re- 
doubt. The general in this visit was attended by Aaron Burr, 
whom he had appointed his aide-de-camp. The perfect coolness 
and .self-possession with which the youth mingled in this dangerous 
scene, and the fire which sparkled in his eye, soon convinced 
Lamb, according to his own account, that " the young volunteer 
was no ordinary man." 

Nearly three weeks had been consumed in these futile opera- 
tions. The army ill-clothed and ill-provided, was becoming im- 
patient of the rigors of a Canadian winter ; the term for which part 
of the troops had enlisted would expire with the year, and they 
already talked of returning home. Montgomery was sadly con- 
scious of the insufficiency of his means; still he could not endure 
the thoughts of retiring from before the place without striking a 
blow. He determined, therefore, to attempt to carry the place by 
escalade, and on the 31st of December at two o'clock in the morn- 
ing, the troops repaired to their several destinations, under cover 
of a violent snow-storm. Montgomery led his division along the 
shore of the St. Lawrence, round the beetling promontory of Cape 
Diamond. The narrow approach to the lower town in that direc- 
tion was traversed by a picket or stockade, defended by Canadian 
militia ; beyond which was a second defence, a kind of block- 
house, forming a battery of small pieces, manned by Canadian 
militia, and a few seamen, and commanded by the captain of 
a transport. The aim of Montgomery was to come upon these 
barriers by surprise. The pass which they defended is formidable 
at all times, having a swift river on one side, and over-hanging 
precipices on the other ; but at this time was rendered pecuharly 
difficult by drifting snow, and by great masses of ice piled on each 
other at the foot of the chffs. The troops made their way painfully, 
in extended and straggling files, along the narrow footway, and 
over the slippery piles of ice. Among the foremost, were some of 
the first New York regiment, led on by Captain Cheeseman. 
Montgomery, who was famihar with them, urged them on. " For- 
ward, men of New York ! " cried he. " You are not the men to 



2IO LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

flinch when your general leads you on!" In his eagerness, he 
threw himself far in the advance, with his pioneers and a few offi- 
cers, and made a dash at the first barrier. The Canadians sta- 
tioned there, taken by surprise, made a few random shots, then 
threw down their muskets and fled. Montgomery sprang forward, 
aided with his own hand to pluck down the pickets which the 
pioneers were sawing, and having made a breach sufficiently wide 
to admit three or four men abreast, entered sword in hand, fol- 
lowed by his staff. Captain Cheeseman, and some of his men. The 
Canadians had fled from the picket to the battery or block-house, 
but seemed to have carried the panic with them, for the battery 
remained silent. Montgomery felt for a moment as if the surprise 
had been complete. He paused in the breach to rally on the 
troops, who were stumbUng along the difficult pass. " Push on, 
my brave boys," cried he, " (2uebec is ours! " He again dashed 
forward, but, when within forty paces of the battery, a discharge 
of grape-shot from a single cannon, made deadly havoc. Mont- 
gomery, and McPherson, one of his aides, were killed on the spot. 
Captain Cheeseman, who was leading on his New Yorkers, 
received a canister shot through the body ; made an effort to rise 
and push forward, but fell back a corpse ; with him fell his orderly 
sergeant and several of his men. This fearful slaughter, and the 
death of their general, threw everything in confusion. The officer 
next in lineal rank to the general, was far in the -rear ; in this 
emergency, Colonel Campbell, quartermaster-general, took the 
command, but, instead of rallying the men, and endeavoring to 
effect the junction with Arnold, ordered a retreat, and abandoned 
the half-won field, leaving behind him the bodies of the slain. 

While all this was occurring on the side of Cape Diamond, Ar- 
nold led his division against the opposite side of the lower lown 
along the suburb and street of St. Roque. Like Montgomery, he 
took the advance at the head of a forlorn hope of twenty-five men. 
Captain Lamb and his artillery company came next, with a field- 
piece mounted on a sledge. Then came a company with ladders and 
scahng implements, followed by Morgan and his riflemen. In the 
rear of all these came the main body. The troops, as they strag- 
gled along in lengthened file through the drifting snow, were sadly 
galled by a flanking fire on the right, from walls and pickets. The. 
field-piece at length became so deeply embedded in a snow-drift, 
that it could not be moved. Lamb sent word to Arnold of the 
impediment ; in the mean time, he and his artillery company were 
brought to a halt. The company with the scaling ladders would 
have halted also, having been told to keep in the rear of the 
artillery ; but they were urged on by Morgan with a thundering 
oath, who pushed on after them with his riflemen, the artillery 
company opening to the right and left to let them pass. They 
arrived in the advance, just as Arnold was leading on his forlorn 
hope to attack the barrier. Before he reached it. a severe wound 
in the right leg with a musket ball completely disabled him, and 
he had to be borne from the field. Morgan instantly took the 
command. Just then Lamb came up with his company, armed 



1776.] FAILURE TO TAKE QUEBEC. 211 

with muskets and bayonets, having received orders to abandon 
the field-piece, and support the advance. There was a discharge 
of grape-shot when the assailants were close under the muzzles of 
the guns, yet but one man was killed. Before there could be a 
second discharge, the battery was carried by assault, some firing 
into the embrasures ; others scaling the walls. The captain and 
thirty of his men were taken prisoners. The day was just dawn- 
ing as Morgan led on to attack the second barrier, and his men 
had to advance under a fire from the town walls on their right, 
which incessantly thinned their ranks. The second barrier was 
reached ; they applied their scaling ladders to storm it. The 
defence was brave and obstinate, but the defenders were at length 
driven from their guns, and the battery was gained. At the last 
moment one of the gunners ran back, linstock in hand, to give one 
more shot. Captain Lamb snapped a fusee at him. It missed 
fire. The cannon was discharged, and a grape-shot wounded 
Lamb in the head, carrying away part of the cheek bone. He 
was borne off senseless, to a neighboring shed. 

The two barriers being now taken, the way on this side into the 
lower town seemed open. Morgan prepared to enter it with the 
victorious vanguard : first stationing Capt. Dearborn and some 
provincials at Palace Gate, which opened down into the defile from 
the upper town. By this time, however, the death of Montgomery 
and retreat of Campbell had enabled the enemy to turn all their 
attention in this direction. A large detachment sent by Gen. Carle- 
ton, sallied out of Palace Gate after Morgan had passed it, surprised 
and captured Dearborn and the guard, and completely cut off the 
advance party. The main body, informed of the death of Mont- 
gomery, and giving up the game as lost, retreated to the camp, 
leaving behind the field-piece which Lamb's company had 
abandoned, and the mortars in the battery of St. Roque. Morgan 
and his men were now hemmed in on all sides, and obliged to take 
refuge in a stone house, from the inveterate fire which assailed them. 
From the windows of this house they kept up a desperate defence, 
until cannon were brought to bear upon it. Then, hearing of the 
death of Montgomery, and seeing that there was no prospect of 
relief, Morgan and his gallant handful of followers were compelled 
to surrender themselves prisoners of war. 

Thus foiled at every point, the wreck of the httle army abandoned 
their camp, and retreated about three miles from the town, where 
they hastily fortified themselves. The remains of the gallant Mont- 
gomery received a soldier's grave, within the fortifications of 
Quebec, by the care of Cramahe, the lieutenant-governor, who had 
formerly known him. Arnold, wounded and disabled, had been 
assisted back to the camp, dragging one foot after the other for 
nearly a mile in" great agony, and exposed continually to the musketry 
from the walls at fifty yards' distance, which shot down several men 
at his side. He trook temporary command of the shattered army 
until Gen. Wooster should arrive from Montreal, to whom he sent 
an express, urging him to bring on succor. "On this occasion," 
says a contemporary writer, " he discovered the utmost vigor of a 



212 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

determined mind, and a genius full of resources. Defeated and 
wounded, as he was, he put his troops into such a situation as to 
keep them still formidable. With a mere handful of men, at one 
time not exceeding five hundred, he maintained a blockade of the 
strong fortress from which he had just been repulsed. " I have no 
thoughts," writes he, " of leaving this proud town until I enter it 
in triumph. I am i?i the way of my duty^ and I know no fear ! " 
Happy for him had he fallen at this moment. — Happy for him had 
he found a soldier's and a patriot's grave, beneath the rock-built 
walls of Quebec. Those walls would have remained enduring 
monuments of his renown. His name, like that of Montgomery, 
would have been treasured up among the dearest though most 
mournful recollections of his country, and that country would have 
been spared the single traitorous blot that dims the bright page of 
its revolutionary history. 

General Schuyler, who was now in Albany, urged the necessity 
of an immediate reinforcement of three thousand men for the army 
in Canada. Washington had not a man to spare from the army 
before Boston. He applied, therefore, on his own responsibility, to 
Massachusetts, New Hampshire and Connecticut, for three regi- 
ments, which were granted. His prompt measure recieved the 
approbation of Congress. Sohcitude was avvkened about the in- 
terior of the province of New York. Arms and ammunition were 
said to be concealed in Tryon County, and numbers of the tories 
in that neighborhood preparing for hostilities. Sir John Johnson 
had fortified Johnson Hall, gathered about him his Scotch High- 
land tenants and Indian allies, and it was rumored he intended to 
carry fire and sword along the valley of the Mohawk. Schuyler, 
forthwith hastened from Albany, at the head of a body of soldiers; 
was joined by Colonel Herkimer, with the militia of Tryon County 
marshaled forth on the frozen bosom of the Mohawk River, and 
appeared before Sir John's stronghold, near Johnstown, on the 19th 
of January. Thus beleaguered, Sir John, after much negotiation, 
capitulated. He was to surrender all weapons of war and mihtary 
stores in his possession, and to give his parole not to take arms 
against America. On these conditions he was to be at Hberty to go 
as far westward in Tryon County as the German Flats and Kings- 
land districts and to every part of the colony to the southward and 
eastward of these districts ; provided he did not go into any sea- 
port town. The capitulation being adjusted, Schuyler ordered his 
troops to be drawn up in Hne at noon (Jan. 20), between his quarters 
and the Court House, to receive the surrender of the Highlanders, 
enjoining profound silence on his officers and men, when the sur- 
render should be made. Everything was conducted with great re- 
gard to the feelings of Sir John's Scottish adherents ; they marched 
to the front, grounded their arms, and were dism'issed with ex- 
hortations to good behavior. 

The siege of Boston continued through the winter, without any 
striking incident to enliven its monotony. The British remained 
within their works, leaving the beleaguering army slowly to aug- 
ment its forces. The country was dissatisfied with the inaction of 



1776.] THE ARMY BEFORE BOSTON. 213 

the latter. Even Congress was anxious for some successful blow 
that might revive popular enthusiasm. Washington shared this 
anxiety, and had repeatedly, in councils of -svar, suggested an 
attack upon the town, but had found a majority of his general 
officers opposed to it. He had hoped some favorable opportunity 
would present, when, the harbor being frozen, the troops might 
approach the town upon the ice. The winter, however, though 
severe at first, proved a mild one, and the bay continued open. 
General Putnam, in the mean time, having completed the new 
works at Lechmere Point, and being desirous of keeping up the 
spirit of his men, resolved to treat them to an exploit. Accordingly, 
from his "impregnable fortress" of Cobble Hill, he detached a 
party of about two hundred, under his favorite officer. Major 
Knowlton, to surprise and capture a British guard stationed at 
Charlestown. It was a daring enterprise, and executed with 
spirit. As Charlestown Neck was completely protected, Knowlton 
led his men across the mill-dam, round the base of the hill, and 
immediately below the fort ; set fire to the guard-house and some 
buildings in its vicinity ; made several prisoners, and retired with- 
out loss ; although thundered upon by the cannon of the fort. 

The condition of the besieged town was daily becoming more 
and more distressing. The inhabitants were without flour, pulse, 
or vegetables ; the troops were nearly as destitute. There was a 
lack of fuel, too, as well as food. The small-pox broke out, and it 
was necessary to inoculate the army. Men, women and children 
either left the city voluntarily, or were sent out of it ; yet the dis- 
tress increased. Washington still adhered to his opinion in favor 
of an attempt upon the town. He was aware that it would be 
attended with considerable loss, but believed it would be success- 
ful if the men should behave well. His proposition was too bold 
for the field-officers assembled in council (Feb. 16th), who objected 
that there was not force, nor arms and ammunition sufficient in 
camp for such an attempt. Washington acquiesced in the decision, 
it being almost unanimous ; yet he felt the irksomeness of his 
situation. "To have the eyes of the whole continent," said he, 
"fixed with anxious expectation of hearing of some great event, 
and to be restrained in every military operation for want of the 
necessary means of carrying it on is not very pleasing, especially 
as the means used to conceal my weakness from the enemy, con- 
ceal it also from our friends and add to their wonder." 

At length the camp was rejoiced by the arrival of Colonel Knox 
with his long train of sledges drawn by oxen, bringing more than 
fifty cannon, mortars, and howitzers, beside supplies of lead and 
flints. The zeal and perseverance which he had displayed in his 
wintry expedition across frozen lakes and snowy wastes, and the 
intelligence with which he had fulfilled his instructions, ^'on him 
the entire confidence of Washington. His conduct in this enter- 
prise was but an earnest of that energy and ability which he dis- 
played throughout the war. Further ammunition being received 
from the royal arsenal at New York and other quarters, and a 
reinforcement of ten regiments of militia, Washington no longer 



214 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

met with opposition to his warhke measures. Lechmere Point, 
which Putnam had fortified, was immediately to be supphed with 
mortars and heavy cannon, so as to command Boston on the north ; 
and Dorchester Heights, on the south of the town, were forthwith 
to be taken possession of. " If anything," said Washington, " will 
induce the enemy to hazard an engagement, it will be our attempt- 
ing to fortify those heights, as, in that event taking place, we shall 
be able to command a great part of the town, and almost the 
whole harbor." 

He was painfully aware how much depended upon the success 
of this attempt. There was a cloud of gloom and distrust lowering 
upon the public mind. Danger threatened on the north and on the 
south. Montgomery had fallen before the walls of Quebec. The 
army in Canada was shattered. Tryon andthe tories were plotting 
mischief in New York. Dunmore was harassing the lower part of 
Virginia, and CUnton and his fleet were prowhng along the coast, 
on a secret errand of mischief. Washington's general orders 
evince the solemn and anxious state of his feelings. In those of 
the 26th of February, he forbade all playing at cards and other 
games of chance. " At this time of pubhc distress," writes he, 
" men may find enough to do in the service of God and their 
country, without abandoning themselves to vice and immorality. 
It is a noble cause we are engaged in ; it is the cause of virtue and 
mankind ; every advantage and comfort to us and our posterity 
depend upon the vigor of our exertions ; in short, freedom or 
slavery must be the result of our conduct; there can, therefore, be 
no greater inducement to men to behave well. But it may not be 
amiss to the troops to know, that, if any man in action shall pre- 
sume to skulk, hide himself, or retreat from the enemy without the 
orders of his commanding officer, he will be instantly shot down as 
an example of cowardice ; cowards having too frequently discon- 
certed the best formed troops by their dastardly behavior." 

The evening of Monday the 4th of March was fixed upon for 
the occupation of Dorchester Heights. The ground was frozen 
too hard to be easily intrenched ; fascines therefore and gabions 
and bundles of screwed hay were collected during the two preced- 
ing nights with which to form breastworks and redoubts. During 
these two busy nights the enemy's batteries were cannonaded and 
bombarded from opposite points to occupy their attention and pre- 
vent their noticing these preparations. They replied with spirit, 
and the incessant roar of artillery thus kept up, covered completely 
the rumbling of wagons and ordnance. 

The wife of John Adams, who resided in the vicinity of the 
American camp, and knew that a general action was meditated, 
expresses in a letter to her husband the feelings of a patriot woman 
during the suspense of these nights. '• I have been in a constant 
state of anxiety, since you left me," writes she on Saturday. " It 
has been said to-morrow, and to-morrow for this month, and when 
the dreadful to-morrow will be, I know not. But hark ! The house 
this instant shakes with the roar of cannon. I have been to the 
door, and find it is a cannonade from our army. Orders, I find. 



1776.] DORCHESTER HEIGHTS FORTIFIED. 215 

are come, for all the remaining militia to repair to the lines Mon- 
day night, by twelve o'clock. No sleep for me to-night." 

On Monday, the appointed evening, she continues: "I have 
just returned from Penn's Hill, where I have been sitting to hear 
the amazing roar of cannon, and from whence I could see every 
shell which was thrown. The sound, I think, is one of the grand- 
est in nature, and is of the true species of the sublime. 'Tis now 
an incessant roar ; but oh, the fatal ideas which are connected with 
the sound ! How many of our dear countrymen must fall ! " 

On the Monday evening thus graphically described, as soon as 
the firing commenced, the detachment under General Thomas set 
out on its cautious and secret march from the lines of Roxbury and 
Dorchester. Fortunately, although the moon, as Washington 
writes, was shining in its full lustre, the flash and roar of cannonry 
from opposite points, and the bursting of bomb-shells high in the 
air, so engaged and diverted the attention of the enemy, that the 
detachment reached the heights about eight o'clock, without being 
heard or perceived. The working party commenced to fortify, 
under the directions of Gridley, the veteran engineer, who had 
planned the works on Bunker's Hill. It was severe labor, for the 
earth was frozen eighteen inches deep ; but the men worked with 
more than their usual spirit ; for the eye of the commander-in-chief 
was upon them. Though not called there by his duties, Washing- 
ton could not be absent from this eventful operation. An eloquent 
orator (Edward Everett, at Dorchester, July 4th, 1855), has imag- 
ined his situation — "All around him intense movement; while 
nothing was to be heard excepting the tread of busy feet, and the 
dull sound of the mattock upon the frozen soil. Beneath him the 
slumbering batteries of the castle ; the roadsteads and harbor filled 
with the vessels of the royal fleet, motionless, except as they swung 
round at their moorings at the turn of the midnight tide ; the beleag- 
uered city occupied with a powerful army, and a considerable 
non-combatant population, startled into unnatural vigilance by the 
incessant and destructive cannonade, yet unobservant of the great 
operations in progress so near them ; the surrounding country, 
dotted with a hundred rural settlements, roused from the deep sleep 
of a New England village, by the unwonted glare and tumult," 
The same plastic fancy suggests the crowd of visions, phantoms of 
the past, which may have passed through Washington's mind, on 
this night of feverish excitement. " His early training in the wil- 
derness ; his escape from drowning, and the deadly rifle of the 
savage in the perilous mission to Venango ; the shower of iron hail 
through which he rode unharmed on Braddock's field ; the early 
stages of the great conflict now brought to its crisis, and still more 
solemnly, the possibihties of the future for himself and for America 
. — the ruin of the patriot cause if he failed at the outset ; the tri- 
umphant consolidation of the Revolution if he prevailed." 

The labors of the night were carried on by the Americans with 
their usual activity and address. When a relief party arrived at 
lour o'clock in the morning, two forts were in sufficient forward- 
ness to furnish protection against small-arms and grapeshot ; and 



2i6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

such use was made of fascines and bundles of screwed hay, that, 
at dawn, a formidable-looking fortress frowned along the height. 
We have the testimony of a British officer for the fact. " This 
morning at daybreak we discovered two redoubts on Dorchester 
Point, and two smaller ones on their flanks. They were all raised 
during the last night, with an expedition equal to that of the genii 
belonging to Aladdin's wonderful lamp. From these hills they 
command the whole town, so that we must drive them from their 
posts, or desert the place." Howe gazed at the mushroom fortress 
with astonishment, as it loomed indistinctly, but grandly, through a 
morning fog. "The rebels," exclaimed he, "have done more 
work in one night, than my whole army would have done in one 
month.'* 

An American, who was on Dorchester Heights, gives a picture 
of the scene. A tremendous cannonade was commenced from the 
forts in Boston, and the shipping in the harbor. "Cannon shot," 
writes he, "are continually rolling and rebounding over the hill, 
and it is astonishing to observe how little our soldiers are terrified 
by thern. The royal troops are perceived to be in motion, as if 
embarking to pass the harbor and land on Dorchester shore, to 
attack our works. The hills and elevations in this vicinity are cov- 
ered with spectators to witness deeds of horror in the expected 
conflict. His excellency. General Washington, is present, animat- 
ing and encouraging the soldiers, and they in return manifest their 
joy ; and express a warm desire for the approach of the enemy ; 
each man knows his own place. Our breast-works are strength- 
ened, and among the means of defence are a great number of bar- 
rels, filled with stones and sand, and arranged in front of our works, 
which are to be put in motion, and made to roll down the hill, to 
break the legs of the assailants as they advance." 

General Thomas was reinforced with two thousand men. Old 
Putnam stood ready to make a descent upon the north side of the 
town, with his four thousand picked men, as soon as the heights on 
the south should be assailed. As Washington rode about the 
heights, he reminded the troops that it was the 5th of March, the 
anniversary of the Boston massacre, and called on them to revenge 
the slaughter of their brethren. They answered him with shouts. 

Howe, in the mean time, was perplexed between his pride and 
the hazards of his position. He must dislodge the Americans 
from Dorchester Heights or evacuate Boston. In the evening the 
British began to move. Twenty-five hundred men were embarked 
in transports, which were to convey them to the rendezvous at Cas- 
tle Williams. A violent storm set in from the east. The trans- 
ports could not reach their place of destination. The men-of-war 
could not cover and support them. A furious surf beat on the 
shore where the boats would have to land. The attack was con- 
sequently postponed until the following day. That day was equally 
unpropitious. The storm continued with torrents of rain. The 
attack was again postponed. In the mean time, the Americans 
went on strengthening their works ; by the time the storm subsided. 
General Howe deemed them too strong to be easily carried ; the 



I776.J THE BRITISH EVACUATE BOSTON. 217 

attempt, therefore, was relinquished altogether. What was to be 
done? The shells thrown from the heights into the town, proved 
that it was no longer tenable. The fleet was equally exposed. 
Admiral Shuldham, the successor to Graves, assured Howe that if 
the Americans maintained possession of the heights, his ships 
could not remain in the harbor. It was determined, therefore, in 
a council of war, to evacuate the place as soon as possible. I3ut 
now came on a humihating perplexity. The troops, in embarking, 
would be exposed to a destructive fire. How was this to be pre- 
vented? General Howe endeavored to work on the fears of the 
Bostonians, by hinting that if his troops were molested while 
embarking, he might be obliged to cover their retreat, by setting 
fire to the town. 

Daily preparations were now made by the enemy for departure. 
By proclamation, the inhabitants, were ordered to deliver up all 
linen and woolen goods, and all other goods, that, in possession of 
the rebels, would aid them in carrying on the war. Crean Bush, a 
New York tory, was authorized to take possession of such goods, 
and put them on board of two of the transports. Under cover of 
his commission, he and his myrmidons broke open stores, and 
stripped them of their contents. Marauding gangs from the fleet 
and army followed their example, and extended their depredations 
to private houses. On the 14th, Howe, in a general order, 
declared that the first soldier caught plundering should be 
hanged on the spot. Still on the i6th houses were broken 
open, goods destroyed, and furniture defaced by the troops. 
For some days the embarkation of the troops was delayed by 
adverse winds. Washington, who was imperfectly informed of 
affairs in Boston, feared that the movements there might be a feint. 
Determined to bring things to a crisis, he detached a force to 
Nook's Hill on Saturday, the i6th, which threw up a breastwork in 
the night regardless of the cannonading of the enemy. This com- 
manded Boston Neck, and the south part of the town, and a 
deserter brought a false report to the British that a general assault 
was intended. The embarkation, so long delayed, began with 
hurry and confusion at four o'clock in the morning. The harbor 
of Boston soon presented a striking and tumultuous scene. There 
were seventy-eight ships and transports casting loose for sea, and 
eleven or twelve thousand men, soldiers, sailors, and refugees, 
huiTying to embark ; many, especially of the latter, with their 
families and personal effects. While this tumultuous embarkation 
was going on, the Americans looked on in silence from their bat- 
teries on Dorchester Heights, without firing a shot. " It was lucky 
for the inhabitants now left in Boston, that they did not," writes a 
British officer ; "for I am informed everything was prepared to set 
the town in a blaze, had they fired one cannon." 

At an early hour of the morning, the troops stationed at Cam- 
bridge and Roxbury had paraded, and several regiments under 
Putnam had embarked in boats, and dropped down Charles River, 
to Sewall's Point, to watch the movements of the enemy by land 
and water. About nine o'clock a large body of troops was seen 



2i8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

marching down Bunker's Hill, while boats full of soldiers were put- 
ting off for the shipping. Two scouts were sent from the camp to 
reconnoiter. The works appeared still to be occupied, for sentries 
were posted about them with shouldered muskets. Observing them 
to be motionless, the scouts made nearer scrutiny, and discovered 
them to be mere effigies, set up to delay the advance of the Ameri- 
cans. Pushing on, they found the works deserted, and gave sig- 
nal of the fact ; whereupon, a detachment was sent from the camp 
to take possession. 

By ten o'clock the enemy were all embarked and under way : 
Putnam had taken command of the city, and occupied the impor- 
tant points, and the flag of thirteen stripes, the standard of the 
Union, floated above all the forts. On the following day, Wash- 
ington himself entered the town, where he was joyfully welcomed. 
He beheld around him sad traces of the devastation caused by 
the bombardment, though not to the extent that he had appre- 
hended. There were evidences, also, of the haste with which the 
British had retreated — five pieces of ordnance with their trunnions 
knocked off ; others hastily spiked ; others thrown off the wharf. 
"General Howe's retreat," writes Washington, "was precipitate 
beyond anything I could have conceived. The destruction of the 
stores at Dunbar's camp, after Braddock's defeat, was but a faint 
image of what may be seen at Boston ; artillery carts cut to pieces 
in one place, gun carriages in another ; shells broke here, shots 
buried there, and every thing carrying with it the face of disorder 
and confusion, as also of distress." As the small-pox prevailed 
in some parts of the town, precautions were taken by Washington 
for its purification ; and the main body of the army did not march 
in until the 20th. 

Notwithstanding the haste with which the British army was 
embarked, the fleet hngered for some days in Nantucket Road. 
Apprehensive that the enemy, now that their forces were collected 
in one body, might attempt by some blow to retrieve their late dis- 
grace, Washington hastily threw up works on Fort Hill, which 
commanded the harbor, and demolished those which protected the 
town from the neighboring country. The fleet at length disappear- 
ed entirely from the coast, and the deliverance of Boston was 
assured. 

The eminent services of Washington throughout this arduous 
siege, his admirable management, by which, "in the course of a 
few months, an undisciplined band of husbandmen became 
soldiers, and were enabled to invest, for nearly a year, and finally 
to expel a brave army of veterans, commanded by the most exper- 
ienced generals," drew forth the enthusiastic applause of the 
nation. No higher illustration of this great achievement need be 
given, than the summary of it contained in the speech of a British 
statesman, the Duke of Manchester, in the House of Lords. "The 
army of Britain," said he, "equipped with every possible essential 
of war ; a chosen army, with chosen officers, backed by the power 
of a mighty fleet, sent to correct revolted subjects ; sent to chas- 
tise a resisting city ; sent to assert Britain's authority ; — has, for 



1776.] SIR WILLIAM AND ADMIRAL HOWE. 219 

many tedious months, been imprisoned within that town by the 
Provincial army ; who, their watchful guards, permitted them no 
inlet to the country ; who braved all their efforts, and defied all 
their skill and ability in war could ever attempt. One way, 
indeed, of escape was left ; the fleet is yet respected ; to the fleet 
the army has recourse ; and British generals, whose name never 
met with a blot of dishonor, are forced to quite that town which 
was the first object of the war, the immediate cause of hostilities, 
the place of arms, which has cost this nation more than a million 
to defend." 

We close this eventful chapter of Washington's history, with the 
honor decreed to him by the highest authority of his country. On 
motion of John Adams, who had first moved his nomination as 
commander-in-chief, a unanimous vote of thanks to him was 
passed in Congress; and it was ordered that a gold medal be 
struck, commemorating the evacuation of Boston, bearing the 
effigy of Washington as its deliverer. 



CHAPTER XI. 

OPERATIONS IN CANADA. 



General Howe had steered for Halifax, there to wait the arrival 
of strong reinforcements from England, and the fleet of his brother. 
Admiral Lord Howe, who was to be commander-in-chief of the 
naval forces on the North American station. It was thought these 
brothers would cooperate admirably in the exercise of their relative 
functions on land and water. Yet they were widely different in 
their habits and dispositions. Sir William, easy, indolent, and self- 
indulgent, "hated business," we are told, "and never did any. 
Lord Howe loved it, dwelt upon it, never could leave it." Beside 
his nautical commands, he had been treasurer of the navy, member 
of the board of admiralty, and had held a seat in Parliament ; 
where, according to Walpole, he was "silent as a rock," excepting 
when naval affairs were under discussion ; when he spoke briefly 
and to the point "My Lord Howe," said George II., " your life 
has been a continued series of services to your country," He was 
now about fifty-one years of age, tall, and well proportioned like 
his brother ; but wanting his ease of deportment. His complexion 
was dark, his countenance grave and strongly marked, and he 
had a shy reserve, occasionally mistaken for haughtiness. As a 
naval officer, he was esteemed resolute and enterprising, yet cool 
and firm. In his younger days he had contracted a friendship for 
Wolfe ; "it was like the union of cannon and gunpowder," said 
Walpole. Howe, strong in mind, solid in judgment, firm of pur- 
pose, was said to be the cannon ; Wolfe, quick in conception, 
prompt in execution, impetuous in action — the gunpowder. 



220 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

General Lee was appointed to the command of the Southern de- 
partment, where he was to keep watch upon the movements of Sir 
Henry Clinton. He was somewhat dissatisfied with the change in 
his destination. " As I am the only general officer on the conti- 
tent." writes he to Washington, "who can speak or think in 
French, I confess I think it would have been more prudent to have 
sent me to Canada ; but I shall obey with alacrity, and I hope with 
success." On his departure, Brig-Gen. Lord Stirling had remained 
in temporary command at New York. Washington hastened de- 
tachments thither under Generals Heath and Sullivan, and wrote 
for three thousand additional men to be furnished by Connecticut. 
The command of the whole he gave to Gen. Putnam, who was 
ordered to fortify the city and the passes of the Hudson, according 
to the plans of General Lee. The veteran Putnam put the city 
under rigorous mihtary rule. The soldiers were to retire to their 
barracks and quarters at the beating of the tattoo, and remain 
there until the reveille in the morning. The inhabitants were sub- 
jected to the same rule. None would be permitted to pass a sentry, 
without the countersign, which would be furnished to them on ap- 
plying to any of the brigade majors. All communication between 
the " ministerial fleet" and shore was stopped ; the ships were no 
longer to be furnished with provisions. Any person taken in the act 
of holding communication with them would be considered an 
enemy, and treated accordingly. 

Washington came on by the way of Providence, Norwich and 
New London, expediting the embarkation of troops from these 
posts, and arrived at New York on the 13th of April. Many of the 
works which Lee had commenced were by this time finished ; others 
were in progress. It was apprehended the principal operations of 
the enemy would be on Long Island, the high grounds of which, 
in the neighborhood of Brooklyn, commanded the City. Washing- 
ton saw that an able and efficient officer was needed at that place. 
Greene was accordingly stationed there, with a division of the 
army. He immediately proceeded to complete the fortifications of 
that important post, and to make himself acquainted with the to- 
pography, and the defensive points of the surrounding country. The 
aggregate force distributed at several extensive posts in New York 
and its environs, and on Long Island, Staten Island and elsewhere, 
amounted to little more than ten thousand men ; some of those 
were on the sick list, others absent on command, or on furlough ; 
there were but about eight thousand available and fit for duty. 
These, too, were without pay ; those recently enlisted, without 
arms, and no one could say where arms were to be procured. 
Washington saw the inadequacy of the force to the purposes re- 
quired, and was full of solicitude about the security of a place, the 
central point of the Confederacy, and the grand deposit of ordnance 
and military stores. He was aware too, of the disaffection to the 
cause among many of the inhabitants ; and apprehensive of 
treachery. The process of fortifying the place had induced the ships 
of war to fall down into the outer bay, within the Hook, upward of 
twenty miles from the city ; but Governor Tryon was still on board 



1 776. J ENGLAND SUBSIDIES HESSIANS. 221 

of one of them, keeping up an active correspondence with the 
tories on Staten and Long Islands, and in other parts of the neigh- 
borhood. Washington addressed an urgent letter to the committee 
of safety, and procured the passage of a resolution prohibiting, 
under severe penalties, all intercourse with the king's ships. In 
addition to his cares about the security of New York, he had to 
provide for the perilous exigencies of the army in Canada. Since 
his arrival in the city, four regiments of troops, a company of rifle- 
men and another of artificers had been detached under the com- 
mand of Brigadier-General Thompson, and a further corps, of six 
regiments under Brigadier-General Sullivan, with orders to join 
General Thomas as soon as possible. 

Washington at that time was not aware of the extraordinary ex- 
pedients England had recently resorted to, against the next cam- 
paign. The Duke of Brunswick, the Landgrave of Hesse Cassel, 
and the Hereditary Prince of Cassel, Count of Hanau, had been 
subsidized to furnish troops to assist in the subjugation of her col- 
onies. Four thousand three hundred Brunswick troops, and nearly 
thirteen thousand Hessians, had entered the British service. Beside 
the subsidy exacted by the German princes, they were to be paid 
seven pounds four shiUings and four pence sterling for every soldier 
furnished by them, and as much more for every one slain. 

We left Arnold before the walls of Quebec, wounded, crippled, 
almost disabled, yet not disheartened ; blockading that " proud 
town" with a force inferior, by half, in number to that of the gar- 
rison. Yox his gallant services. Congress promoted him in January 
to the rank of brigadier-general. Throughout the winter he kept 
up the blockade with his shattered army. Carleton remained 
within his walls. He was sure of reinforcements from England in 
the spring, and, in the mean time, trusted to the elements of dis- 
solution at work in the besieging army. Arnold, in truth, had diffi- 
culties of all kinds to contend with. His military chest was 
exhausted ; his troops were in want of necessaries ; to procure sup- 
plies, he was compelled to resort to the paper money issued by 
Congress, which was uncurrent among the Canadians ; he issued 
a proclamation making the refusal to take it in payment a penal 
offence. This only produced irritation and disgust. As the terms 
of their enlistment expired, his men claimed their discharge and 
returned home. Sickness also thinned his ranks ; so that, at one 
time, his force was reduced to five hundred men, and for two 
months, with all his recruitments of raw militia, did not exceed 
seven hundred. The failure of the attack on Quebec had weak- 
ened the cause among the Canadians ; the peasantry had been dis- 
pleased by the conduct of the American troops ; they had once 
welcomed them as deliverers ; they now began to regard them as 
intruders. The seigneurs, or noblesse, also, feared to give further 
countenance to an invasion, which, if defeated, might involve 
them in ruin. Notwithstanding all these discouragements, Arnold 
still kept up a bold face ; cut off supplies occasionally, and har- 
assed the place with alarms. Having repaired his batteries, he 
opened a fire upon the town, but with httle effect ; the best part of 



222 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the artillerists, with Lamb, their capable commander, were prison- 
ers within the walls. On the ist day of April, General Wooster 
arrived from Montreal, with reinforcements, and took the com- 
mand. The day after his arrival, Arnold, by the falling of his 
horse, again received an injury on the leg recently wounded, and 
was disabled for upward of a week. Considering himself slighted 
by General Wooster, who did not consult him in military affairs, 
he obtained leave of absence until he should be recovered from his 
lameness, and repaired to Montreal, where he took command. 

General Thomas who had been appointed to the command, 
arrived at the camp in the course of April, and found the army in 
a forlorn condition, scattered at different posts, and on the island 
of Orleans. It was numerically increased to upward of two thous- 
and men, but several hundred were unfit for service. The small- 
pox had made great ravages. They had inoculated each other. 
In their sick and debilitated state, they were without barracks, and 
almost without medicine. The winter was over, the river was 
breaking up, reinforcements to the garrison might immediately be 
expected, and then the case would be desperate. Observing that 
the river about Quebec was clear of ice. General Thomas deter- 
mined on a bold effort. It was, to send up a fire-ship with the 
flood, and, while the ships in the harbor were in flames, and the 
town in confusion, to scale the walls. Accordingly, on the third 
of May, the troops turned out with scaling ladders ; the fire-ship 
came up the river under easy sail, and arrived near the shipping 
before it was discovered. It was fired into. The crew applied a 
slow match to the train and pulled off. The ship was soon in a 
blaze, but the flames caught and consumed the sails ; her way was 
checked, and she drifted off harmlessly with the ebbing tide. The 
rest of the plan was, of course, abandoned. 

Nothing now remained but to retreat before the enemy should 
be reinforced. Preparations were made in all haste, to embark 
the sick and the military stores. While this was taking place, five 
ships made their way into the harbor, on the 6th of May, and 
began to land troops. Thus reinforced. General Carleton sallied 
forth, with eight hundred or a thousand men. The Americans 
were in no condition to withstand his attack. They had no 
intrenchments, and could not muster three hundred men at any 
point. A precipitate retreat was the consequence, in which bag- 
gage, artillery, everything was abandoned. Even the sick were 
left behind ; many of whom crawled away from the camp hos- 
pitals, and took refuge in the woods, or among the Canadian peas- 
antry. General Carleton did not think it prudent to engage in a 
pursuit with his newly-landed troops. He treated the prisoners 
with great humanity, and caused the sick to be sought out in their 
hiding-places, and brought to the general hospitals ; with assur- 
ances that, when healed, they should have liberty to return to their 
homes. 

General Thomas came to a halt at Point Deschambault, about 
sixty miles above Quebec, and called a council of war to consider 
what was to be done. The enemy's ships were hastening up the 



1776.] PROCEEDINGS IN CONGRESS. 223 

St. Lawrence ; some were already but two or three leagues distant. 
The camp was without cannon ; powder, forwarded by General 
Schuyler, had fallen into the enemy's hands ; there were not pro- 
visions enough to subsist the army for more than two or three 
days ; the men-of-war too, might run up the river, intercept all 
their resources, and reduce them to the same extremity they had 
experienced before Quebec. It was resolved, therefore, to ascend 
the river still further. General Thomas, however, determined to 
send forward the invalids, but to remain at Point Deschambault 
with about five hundred men, until he should receive orders from 
Montreal, and learn whether such supplies could be forwarded 
immediately as would enable him to defend his position. 

Washington received a summons to Philadelphia, to advise with 
Congress concerning the opening campaign. He was informed 
also that Gates, on the 16th of May, had been promoted to the 
rank of major-general, and Mifflin to that of brigadier-general, 
and a wish was intimated that they might take the command of 
Boston. The general, accompanied by Mrs. Washington, departed 
from New York on the 21st of May, and they were invited by Mr. 
Hancock, the president of Congress, to be his guests during their 
sojourn at Philadelphia. Washington, in his conferences with 
Congress, expressed his conviction, that no accommodations could 
be effected with Great Britain, on acceptable terms. Ministerialists 
had declared in Parliament that, the sword being drawn, the most 
coercive measures would be persevered in, until there was complete 
submission. The recent subsidizing of foreign troops was a part 
of this policy, and indicated unsparing hostility. A protracted 
war, therefore, was inevitable ; but it would be impossible to carry 
it on successfully, with the scanty force actually embodied, and 
with transient enlistments of militia. In consequence of his repre- 
sentations, resolutions were passed in Congress that soldiers should 
be enlisted for three years, with a bounty of ten dollars for each 
recruit ; that the army at New York should be reinforced until the 
1st of December, with thirteen thousand eight hundred militia ; that 
gondolas and fire-rafts should be bTJilt, to prevent the men-of-war 
and enemy's ships from coming into New York Bay, or the Nar- 
rows ; and that a flying camp of ten thousand militia, furnished by 
Pennsylvania, Delaware and Maryland, and likewise engaged 
until the ist December, should be stationed in the Jerseys for the 
defence of the Middte colonies. Washington was, moreover, 
empowered, in case of emergency, to call on the neighboring colo- 
nies for temporary aid with their militia. Military affairs had 
hitherto been referred in Congress to committees casually appoint- 
ed, and had consequently been subject to great irregularity and 
neglect. Henceforth a permanent committee, entitled the Board 
of War and Ordnance, was to take cognizance of them. The first 
board was composed of five members ; John Adams, Colonel Ben- 
jamin Harrison, Roger Sherman, James Wilson, and Edward Rut- 
ledge ; with Richard Peters as secretary. It went into operation 
on the 1 2th of June. 

While at Philadelphia, Washington had frequent consultations 



224 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

with George Clinton, one of the delegates from New York, con- 
cerning the interior defences of that province, especially those con- 
nected with the security of the Highlands of the Hudson, where 
part of the regiment of Colonel James Clinton, the brother of the 
delegate, was stationed. These brothers were of the old Clinton 
stock of England ; being descended from General James Clinton, 
an adherent of royalty in the time of the civil wars, but who passed 
over to Ireland, after the death of Charles I. Their father, Charles 
Clinton, grandson of the general, emigrated to America in 1729, 
and settled in Ulster, now Orange County, just above the High- 
lands of the Hudson. Though not more than fifty miles from the 
city of New York, it was at that time on the borders of a wilder- 
ness, where every house had at times to be a fortress. Charles 
Clinton, like most men on our savage frontier in those days, was a 
warrior by necessity, if not by choice. He took an active part 
in Indian and French wars, commanded a provincial regiment 
stationed at Fort Herkimer, joined in the expedition under General 
Bradstreet, when it passed up the valley of the Mohawk, and was 
present at the capture of Fort Frontenac. His sons, James and 
George, one twenty, the other seventeen years of age, served in 
the same campaign, the one as captain, the other as lieutenant ; 
thus taking an early lesson in that school of American soldiers, the 
French war. James, whose propensities were always military, 
continued in the provincial army until the close of that war ; and 
afterward, when settled on an estate in Ulster County, was able 
and active in organizing its militia. George apphed himself to the 
law, and became successful at the bar, in the same county. Their 
father, having laid aside the sword, occupied for many years, with 
discernment and integrity, the honorable station of Judge of the 
Court of Common Pleas. He died in Ulster County, in 1773, in 
the eighty-third year of his age, " in full view of that revolution in 
which his sons were to act distinguished parts." With his latest 
breath he charged them "to stand by the liberties of their 
country." They needed no sugh admonition. From the very first, 
they had been heart and hand in the cause. George had cham- 
pioned it for years in the New York legislature, signalizing himself 
by his zeal as one of an intrepid minority in opposing ministerial 
oppression. He had but recently taken his seat as delegate to the 
Continental Congress. James Clinton, apjpointed colonel on the 
30th of June, 1775, had served with his regiment of New York 
troops under Montgomery at the seige of St. Johns, and the capture 
of Montreal, after which he had returned home. He had sub- 
sequently been appointed to the command of a regiment in one of 
the four battalions raised for the defence of New York. 

The prevalence of the small-pox had frequently rendered Wash- 
ington uneasy on Mrs. Washington's account during her visits to 
the army ; he was relieved, therefore, by her submitting to inocu- 
lation during their sojourn in Philadelphia. He was gratified, also, 
by procuring the appointment of his late secretary, Joseph Reed, 
to the post of adjutant-general, vacated by the promotion of Gen- 
eral Gates, thus placing him once more by his side. 



1776.] CANADA ABANDONED. 225 

Operations in Canada were drawing to a disastrous close. Gene- 
ral Thomas, finding it impossible to make a stand at Point Des- 
chambault, had continued his retreat to the mouth of the Sorel, 
where he found General Thompson with part of the troops detached 
by Washington, from New York, who were making some prepara- 
tions for defence. Shortly after his arrival, he was taken ill with 
the small-pox, and died on June 2nd. On his death, General Sul- 
livan, who had recently arrived with the main detachment of troops 
from New York, succeeded to the command; General Wooster 
having been recalled. General Thompson was sending ofif his 
sick and his heavy baggage, to be prepared for a retreat, if neces- 
sary. " It really was affecting," writes SulUvan to Washington, 
*'to see the banks of the Sorel lined with men, women and children, 
leaping and clapping their hands for joy, to see me arrive ; it gave 
no less joy to General Thompson, who seemed to be wholly for- 
saken, and left to fight against an unequal force or retreat before 
them." 

The actual force of the enemy in Canada had recently been 
augmented to about 13,000 men; several regiments having arrived 
from Ireland, one from England, another from General Howe, and 
a body of Brunswick troops under the Baron Reidesel. Of these, 
the greater part were on the way up from Quebec in divisions, by 
land and water, with Generals Carleton, Burgoyne, Philips and 
Reidesel ; while a considerable number under General Frazer had 
arrived at Three Rivers, and others, under General Nesbit, lay 
near them on board of transports. Sullivan retreated with his artil- 
lery and stores, just before the arrival of the enemy, and was fol- 
lowed, ^tep by step along the Sorel, by strong columns under 
General Burgoyne. On the i8th of June he was joined by Gene- 
ral Arnold with three hundred men, the garrison of Montreal, who 
had crossed at Longueil just in time to escape a large detachment 
of the enemy. Thus reinforced, and the evacuation of Canada 
being determined on in a council of war, Sullivan succeeded in 
destroying everything at Chamblee and St. Johns that he could 
not carry away, breaking down bridges, and leaving forts and 
vessels in flames, and continued his retreat to the Isle aux Noix, 
where he made a halt for some days, until he should receive posi- 
tive orders from Washington or General Schuyler. The low, 
unhealthy situation of the Isle aux Noix obliged him soon to 
remove his camp to the Isle la Motte, whence, on receiving orders 
to that effect from General Schuyler, he ultimately embarked with 
his forces, sick and well, for Crown Point. Thus ended this famous 
invasion ; an enterprise bold in its conceptions, daring and hardy in 
its execution; full of ingenious expedients and hazardous exploits; 
and which, had not unforeseen circumstances counteracted its well- 
devised plans, might have added all Canada to the American con- 
federacy. 



226 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



CHAPTER XII. 

THE BRITISH IN NEW YORK. — DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 

The great aim of the British, at present, was to get possession 
of New York and the Hudson, and make them the basis of military 
operations. This they hoped to effect on the arrival of a powerful 
armament, hourly expected, and designed for operations on the 
seaboard. At this critical juncture there was an alarm of a con- 
spiracy among the tories in the city and on Long Island, suddenly 
to take up arms and cooperate with the British troops on their 
arrival. The wildest reports were in circulation concerning it. 
Some of the tories were to break down King's Bridge, others were 
to blow up the magazines, spike the guns, and massacre all the 
field-officers. Washington was to be killed or delivered up to the 
enemy. Some of his own body-guard were said to be in the plot. 
Several publicans of the city were pointed out, as having aided or 
abetted the plot. One was landlord of the Highlander, at the cor- 
ner of Beaver street and Broadway. Another dispensed hquor 
under the sign of Robin Hood. Another, named Lowry, described 
as a "fat man in a blue coat," kept tavern in a low house opposite 
the Oswego market. Another, James Houlding, kept a beer house 
in Tryon Row, opposite the gates of the upper'barracks. It would 
seem as if a network of corruption and treachery had been woven 
throughout the city by means of these liquor dealers. Numerous 
arrests took place, and among the number, some of Washington's 
body-guard. A great dismay fell upon the tories. Some of those 
on Long Island who had proceeded to arm themselves, finding the 
plot discovered, sought refuge in woods and morasses. Washing- 
ton directed that those arrested, who belonged to the army, should 
be tried by a court-martial, and the rest handed over to the secular 
power. Corbie's tavern, near Washington's quarters, was a kind 
of rendezvous of the conspirators. There one Gilbert Forbes, a 
gunsmith, " a short, thick man, with a white coat," enlisted men, 
gave them money, and "swore them on the book to secrecy." 
From this house a correspondence was kept up with Governor 
Tryon on shipboard, through a "mulatto-colored negro, dressed in 
blue clothes." At this tavern it was supposed Washington's body- 
guards were tampered with. Thomas Hickey, one of the guards, 
a dark-complexioned man, five feet six inches high, and weiJ set, 
was said not only to be enlisted, but to have aided in corrupting 
his comrades ; among others, Greene the drummer, and Johnson 
the fifer. He was tried before a court-martial. He was an Irish- 
man, and had been a deserter from the British army. The court- 
martial found him guilty of mutiny and sedition, and treacherous 
correspondence with the enemy, and sentenced him to be hanged. 
The sentence was approved by Washington, and was carried 



1776.] ALEXANDER HAMILTON AT TWENTY, 227 

promptly into effect June 28th, in the most solemn and impressive 
manner, to serve as a warning and example in this time of treach- 
ery and danger. 

While the city was still brooding over this doleful spectacle, four 
ships-of-vvar, portentous visitants, appeared off the Hook, stood 
quietly in at the Narrows, and dropped anchor in the bay. On the 
29th of June an express from the look-out on Staten Island 
announced that forty sail were in sight. They were, in fact, ships 
from Halifax, bringing between nine and ten thousand of the 
troops recently expelled from Boston ; together with six transports 
filled with Highland troops, which had joined the fleet at sea. At 
sight of this formidable armament standing into the harbor, Wash- 
ington instantly sent notice of its arrival to Colonel James Clinton, 
who had command of the posts in the Highlands, and urged all 
possible preparations to give the enemy a warm reception should 
they push their frigates up the river. Other arrivals swelled the 
number of ships in the bay of New York to one hundred and 
thirty men-of-war and transports. They made no movement to 
ascend the Hudson, but anchored off Staten Island, where they 
landed their troops, and the hill sides were soon whitened with 
their tents, Washington beheld the gathering storm with an anx- 
ious eye, aware that General Howe only awaited the arrival of his 
brother, the admiral, to commence hostile operations. He wrote 
to the President of Congress, urging a call on the Massachusetts 
government for its quota of continental troops ; and the formation 
of a flying camp of ten thousand men, to be stationed in the Jer- 
seys as a central force, ready to act in any direction as circum- 
stances might require. On the 2d of July, he issued a general order, 
calling upon the troops to prepare for a momentous conflict which 
was to decide their liberties and fortunes. Those who should sig- 
nahze themselves by acts of bravery, would be noticed and 
rewarded ; those who proved craven would be exposed and pun- 
ished. No favor would be shown to such as refused or neglected 
to do their duty at so important a crisis. 

About this time, we have the first appearance in the military 
ranks of the Revolution, of one destined to take an active and dis- 
tinguished part in public affairs ; and to leave the impress of his 
genius on the institutions of the country. As General Greene one 
day, on his way to Washington's head-quarters, was passing 
through a field — then on the outskirts of the city, now in the heart 
of its busiest quarter, and known as "the Park" — he paused to 
notice a provincial company of artillery, and was struck with its 
able performances, and with the tact and talent of its commander. 
He was a mere youth, apparently about twenty years of age ; small 
in person and stature, but remarkable for his alert and manly bear- 
ing. It was Alexander Hamilton. Greene was an able tactician, 
and quick to appreciate any display of military science ; a little 
conversation sufficed to convince him that the youth before him 
had a mind of no ordinary grasp and quickness. He invited him 
to his quarters, and from that time, cultivated his friendship. 

Hamilton was a native of the island of Nevis, in the West Indies, 



228 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and at a very early age had been put in a counting-house at Santa 
Cruz. His nature, however, was aspiring. "I contemn the grov- 
eling condition of a clerk to which my fortune condemns me," 
writes he to a youthful friend, "and would willingly risk my life, 
though not my character, to exalt my station. I mean to prepare 
the way for futurity. I am no philosopher, and may be justly said 
to build castles in the air; yet we have seen such schemes succeed, 
when the projector is constant. I shall conclude by saying, I wish 
there was a war." Still he applied himself with zeal and fidelity 
to the duties of his station, and such were the precocity of his 
judgment, and his aptness at accounts, that, before he was fourteen 
years of age, he was left for a brief interval, during the absence oi 
the principal, at the head of the establishment. While his situa- 
tion in the house gave him a practical knowledge of business, and 
experience in finance, his leisure hours were devoted to self-culti- 
vation. He made himself acquainted with mathematics and chem- 
istry, and indulged a strong propensity to hterature. Some early 
achievements of his pen attracted attention, and showed such 
proof of talent, that it was determined to give him the advantage 
of a regular education. He was accordingly sent to Elizabeth- 
town, in the Jersey?, in the autumn of 1772, to prepare, by a 
course of studies, for admission into King's (now Columbia) Col- 
lege, at New York. He entered the college as a private student, 
in the latter part of 1773, and endeavored, by diligent application, 
to fit himself for the medical profession. The contentions of the 
colonies with the mother country gave a different direction and im- 
pulse to his ardent and aspiring mind. He soon signalized himself 
by the exercise of his pen, sometimes in a grave, sometimes in a 
satirical manner. On the 6th of July, 1774, there was a general 
meeting, of the citizens in the " Fields," to express their abhorrence 
of the Boston Port Bill. Hamilton was present, and, prompted by 
his excited feelings and the instigation of youthful companions, 
ventured to address the multitude. The vigor and maturity of 
his intellect contrasted with his youthful appearance, won the 
admiration of his auditors ; even his diminutive size gave addi- 
tional effect to his eloquence. The war, for which in his boyish 
days he had sighed, was approaching. He now devoted himself 
to military studies, especially pyrotechnics and gunnery, and 
formed an amateur corps out of a number of his fellow students, 
and the young gentlemen of the city. In the month of March, 
1776, he became captain of artillery, in a provincial corps, newly 
raised, and soon, by able drilling, rendered it conspicuous for 
discipline. 

A valuable accession to the army, at this anxious time, was 
"Washington's neighbor, and former companion in arms, Hugh 
Mercer, the veteran of Culloden and Fort Duquesne. His military 
spirit was alert as ever ; and on the 5th of June he had received 
from Congress the commission of brigadier-general. He was 
greeted by Washington with the right hand of fellowship. He sent 
him over to Paulus Hook, in the Jerseys, to make arrangements 
for the Pennsylvania militia as they should come in ; recommend- 



1 776. J DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 229 

ing him to Brig. Gen. William Livingston, as an officer on whose 
experience and judgment great confidence might be reposed. Liv- 
ingston was a man inexperienced in arms, but of education, talent, 
sagacity and ready wit. He was of the New York family of the 
same name, but had resided for some time in the Jerseys, having 
a spacious mansion in Elizabethtown. which he had named Liberty 
Hall. Mercer and he were to consult together, and concert plans 
to repel invasions. New Jersey's greatest danger of invasion was 
from State n Island, where the British were throwing up works, and 
whence they might attempt to cross to Amboy. The flying camp 
was therefore to be stationed in the neighborhood of that place. 
" The known disaffection of the people of Amboy," writes Wash- 
ington, " and the treachery of those on Staten Island, who, after 
the fairest professions, have shown themselves our most inveterate 
enemies, have induced me to give directions that all persons of 
known enmity and doubtful character, should he removed from 
those places." According to General Livingston's humorous 
account, his own village of Elizabethtown was not much more 
reliable, being peopled in those agitated times by "unknown, 
unrecommended strangers, guilty-looking tories, and very knavish 
whigs." 

While danger was gathering round New York, and its inhabi- 
tants were in mute suspense and fearful anticipations, the General 
Congress at Philadelphia was discussing, with closed doors, what 
John Adams pronounced — " The greatest question ever debated in 
America, and as great as ever was or will be debated among men." 
The result was, a resolution passed unanimously, on the 2d of 
July "that these United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, 
free and independent States." "The 2d of July," adds the 
same patriotic statesman, "will be the most memorable epoch in 
the history of America. I am apt to believe that it will be cele- 
brated by succeeding generations, as the great anniversary festival. 
It ought to be commemorated as the day of dehverance, by sol- 
emn acts of devotion to Almighty God. It ought to be solemnized 
with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, 
bonfires and illuminations, from one end of this continent to the 
other from this time forth for evermore." The glorious event has, 
indeed, given rise to an annual jubilee, but not on the day desig- 
nated by Adams. The fourth of July is the day of national 
rejoicing, for on that day, the " Declaration of Independence," 
that solemn and subhme document, was adopted. Tradition gives 
a dramatic effect to its announcement. It was known to be under 
discussion, but the closed doors of Congress excluded the popu- 
lace. They awaited, in throngs, an appointed signal. In the 
steeple of the state -house was a bell, imported twenty-three years 
previously from London by the Provincial Assembly of Pennsyl- 
vania. It bore the portentous text from scripture : " Proclaim 
hberty throughout all tUe land, unto all the inhabitants thereof." 
A joyous peal from that bell gave notice that the bill had been 
passed. It was the knell of British domination. No one felt the 
importance of the event more deeply than John Adams, tor no one 



230 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

had been more active in producing it. We quote his words written 
at the moment. " When I look back to the year 1761, and recol- 
lect the argument concerning writs of assistance in the superior 
court, which I have hitherto considered as the commencement of 
the controversy between Great Britain and America, and run 
through the whole period from that time to this, and recollect the 
series of political events, the chain of causes and effects ; I am 
surprised at the suddenness, as well as the greatness of this Revol- 
ution ; Great Britain has been filled with folly, America with 
wisdom." His only regret was, that the declaration of indepen- 
dence had not been made sooner. " Had it been made seven 
months ago," said he, "we should have mastered Quebec, and 
been in possession of Canada, and might before this hour have 
formed alliances with foreign states. Many gentlemen in high 
stations, and of great influence, have been duped by the minis- 
terial bubble of commissioners to treat, and have been slow and 
languid in promoting measures for the reduction of that province." 
Washington hailed the declaration with joy. It is true, it was 
but a formal recognition of a state of things which had long 
existed, but it put an end to all those temporizing hopes of recon- 
ciliation which had clogged the military action of the country. On 
the 9th of July, he caused it to be read at six o'clock in the even- 
ing, at the head of each brigade of the army. "The general 
hopes," said he in his orders, " that this important event will serve 
as a fresh incentive to every officer and soldier, to act with fidelity 
and courage, as knowing that now the peace and safety of his 
country depend, under God, solely on the success of our arms ; 
and that he is now in the service of a state, possessed of sufficient 
power to reward his merit, and advance him to the highest honors 
of a free country." 

The exultation of the patriots of New York was soon overclouded. 
On the 1 2th of July, several ships stood in from sea, and joined 
the naval force below. Every nautical movement was now a 
matter of speculation and alarm, and all the spy-glasses 
in the city were incessantly reconnoitering the bay. Two 
ships-of-war were observed getting under way, and standing 
toward the city. One was the Phoenix, of forty guns ; the other 
the Rose, of twenty guns, commanded by Captain Wallace, of 
unenviable renown, who had marauded the New England coast, 
and domineered over Rhode Island. The troops were imme- 
diately at their alarm posts. It was about half-past three o'clock in 
the afternoon, as the ships and three tenders came sweeping up the 
bay with the advantage of wind and tide, and shaped their course 
up the Hudson. The batteries of the city and of Paulus Hook on 
the opposite Jersey shore, opened a fire upon them. They an- 
swered it with broadsides. There was a panic throughout the city. 
Women and children ran hither and thither about the streets, 
mingling their shrieks and cries with the thundering of the cannon. 
"The attack has begun ! The city is to be destroyed ! What will 
become of us?" The Phoenix and the Rose continued their course 
up the Hudson. They had merely fired upon the batteries as they 



1776.] CLINTON DEFENDS THE HUDSON 231 

passed; and on their own part had sustained but little damage, 
their decks having ramparts of sand-bags. The ships below 
remained in sullen quiet at their anchors, and showed no intention 
of following them. The firing ceased. The fear of a general 
attack upon the city died away, and the agitated citizens breathed 
more freely. Washington, however, apprehended this movement 
of the ships might be with a different object. They might be 
sent to land troops and seize upon the passes of the High- 
lands. He sent off an express to put Gen. Mifflin on the 
alert, who was stationed with his Philadelphia troops at Fort Wash- 
ington and King's Bridge. The same express carried a letter from 
him to the New York Convention, at that time holding its sessions 
at White Plains in Westchester County, apprising it of the impending 
danger. His immediate sohcitude was for the safety of Forts Con- 
stitution and Montgomery. Fortunately George Clinton, the patri- 
otic legislator, had recently been appointed brigadier-general of 
the militia of Ulster and Orange counties. Called to his native 
State by his military duties in this time of danger, he had only 
remained in Congress to vote for the declaration of independence, 
and then hastened home. He was now at New Windsor, in Ulster 
County, just above the Highlands. Washington wrote to him on 
the afternoon of the 12th, urging him to collect as great a force as 
possible of the New York mihtia, for the protection of the High- 
lands against this hostile irruption, and to soHcit aid, if requisite, 
from the western parts of Connecticut. " I have the strongest rea- 
son to believe," added he, " it will be absolutely necessary, if it 
were only to prevent an insurrection of your own tories." Long 
before the receipt of Washington's letter, Clinton had been put on 
the alert. About nine o'clock in the morning of the 13th, an 
alarm gun from his brother at Fort Constitution, thundered through 
the echoing defiles of the mountains. Shortly afterward, two river 
sloops came to anchor above the Highlands before the general's 
residence. Their captains informed him that New York had been 
attacked on the preceding afternoon. They had seen the cannon- 
ade from a distance, and judged from the subsequent firing, that 
the enemy's ships were up the river as far as King's Bridge. Clin- 
ton was as prompt a soldier as he had been an intrepid legislator. 
The neighboring militia were forthwith put in motion. Three regi- 
ments were ordered out ; one was to repair to Fort Montgomery ; 
another to Fort Constitution ; the third to rendezvous at Newburgh', 
just above the Highlands, ready to hasten to the assistance of Fort 
Constitution, should another signal be given. Another of his saga- 
cious measures was to send expresses to all the owners of sloops 
and boats twenty miles up the west side of the river, to haul them 
off so as to prevent their grounding. Part of them were to be 
ready to carry over the militia to the fort ; the rest were ordered 
down to Fort Constitution, where a chain of them might be drawn 
across the narrowest part of the river, to be set on fire, should the 
enemy's ships attempt to pass. He proceeded early in the after- 
noon of the same day, with about forty of his neighbors, to Fort 
Constitution ; whence he pushed down on the same evening to 



232 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Fort Montgomery, where he fixed his head-quarters, as being 
nearer the enemy and better situated to discover their motions. 
On July 14th, two or three hundred of the hardy Ulster yeomanry, 
roughly equipped, part of one of the regiments he had ordered 
out, marched into Fort Montgomery, headed by their colonel 
(Woodhull). Early the next morning five hundred of another 
regiment arrived, and he was told that parts of two other regiments 
were on the way. "The men," writes he to Washington, "turn 
out of their harvest fields to defend their country with surprising 
alacrity. The absence of so many of them, however, at this time, 
when their harvests are perishing for want of the sickle, will greatly 
distress the country." On no one could this prompt and brave 
gathering of the yeomanry produce a more gratifying effect, than 
upon the commander-in-chief: and no one could be more feelingly 
alive, in the midst of stern military duties, to the appeal in behalf 
of the peaceful interests of the husbandman. 

New York has always been a city prone to agitations. Tliatinto 
which it was thrown on the afternoon of the 12th of July, by the 
broadsides of the Phoenix and the Rose, was almost immediately 
followed by another. On the same evening there was a great 
booming of cannon, with clouds of smoke, from the shipping at 
anchor at Staten Island. Every spy-glass was again in requisition. 
The British fleet were saluting a ship of the line, just arrived from 
sea. She advanced grandly, every man-of-war thundering a salute 
as she passed. At her foretop masthead she bore St. George's 
flag. "It is the admiral's ship! " cried the nautical men on the 
look-out at the Battery. "It is the admiral's ship ! " was echoed 
from mouth to mouth, and the word soon flew throughout the city, 
" Lord Howe is come ! " 

Affairs now appeared to be approaching a crisis. In consequence 
of the recent conspiracy, the Convention of New York, seated at 
White Plains in Westchester County, had a secret committee sta- 
tioned in New York for the purpose of taking cognizance of trai- 
torous machinations. To this committee Washington addressed a 
letter the day after his lordship's arrival, suggesting the policy of 
removing from the city and its environs, " all persons of known 
disaffection and enmity to the cause of America ;" especially those 
confined in jail for treasonable offences ; who might become 
extremely dangerous in case of an attack and alarm. He took 
tlys step with great reluctance ; but felt compelled to it by circum- 
stances. The late conspiracy had shown him that treason might 
be lurking in his camp. And he was well aware that the city and 
the neighboring country, especially Westchester County, and 
Queens and Suffolk counties on Long Island, abounded with 
" tories," ready to rally under the royal standard whenever backed 
by a commanding force. In consequence of his suggestion, thir- 
teen persons in confinement for traitorous offences, were removed 
to the jail of Litchfield in Connecticut. Among the number was 
the late mayor ; but as his offence was not of so deep a dye as 
those whereof the rest stood charged, it was recommended by the 



1776.] ENFORCED BRITISH ETIQUETTE 233 

president of the Convention that he should be treated with indul- 
gence. 

The proceedings of Lord Howe soon showed the policy of these 
precautions. His lordship had prepared a declaration, addressed 
to the people at large, informing them of the powers vested in his 
brother and himself as commissioners for restoring peace ; and 
inviting communities as well as individuals, who, in the tumult and 
disasters of the times, had deviated from their allegiance to the 
crown, to merit and receive pardon by a prompt return to their 
duty. It was added, that proper consideration would be had of 
the services of all who should contribute to the restoration of public 
tranquiUity. 

Washington, in his cori'espondence with Generals Gage and 
Howe, exacted the consideration and deference due to him as com- 
mander-in-chief of the American armies ; he did this not from offi- 
cial pride and punctilio, but as the guardian of American rights 
and diginities. The British officers, considering the Americans in 
arms rebels without valid commissions, were in the habit of deny- 
ing them all military title. Washington's general officers had 
urged him not to submit to this tacit indignity, but to reject all let- 
ters directed to him without a specification of his official rank, 
Within a day or two an officer of the British navy, Lieut. Brown, 
came with a flag from Lord Howe, seeking a conference with 
Washington. Colonel Reed, the adjutant-geneiial, embarked in a 
barge, and met him half way between Governor's and Staten 
Islands. The lieutenant informed him that he was the bearer of a 
letter from Lord Howe to Mr. Washington. Colonel Reed replied, 
that he knew no such person in the American army. The lieuten- 
ant produced and offered the letter. It was addressed to George 
Washington, Esquire. He was informed that it could not be 
received with such a direction. The Heutenant expressed much 
concern. The letter, he said, was of a civil, rather than a military 
nature — Lord Howe regretted he had not arrived sooner — he had 
great powers — it was much to be wished the letter could be received. 
While the lieutenant was embarrassed and agitated, Reed main- 
tained his coolness, politely declining to receive the letter, as incon- 
sistent with his duty. They parted ; but after the lieutenant had 
been rowed some little distance, his barge was put about, and Reed 
waited to hear what further he had to say. It was to ask by what 
title General — but, catching himself, Mr. Washington chose to be 
addressed. Reed replied that the general's station in the army 
was well known ; and they could not be at a loss as to the proper 
mode of addressing him, especially as this matter had been dis- 
cussed in the preceding summer, of which, he presumed, the 
admiral could not be ignorant. The heutenant again expressed his 
disappointment and regret, and their interview closed. On the 
19th, an aide-de-camp of General Howe came with a flag, and 
requested to know, as there appeared to be an obstacle to a cor- 
respondence between the two generals, whether Colonel Patterson, 
the British adjutant-general, could be admitted to an interview with 
General Washington. Colonel Reed, who met the flag, consented 



234 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

in the name of the general, and pledged his honor for the safety of 
the adjutant-general during the interview, which was fixed for the 
following morning. At the appointed time, Colonel Reed and Colonel 
Webb, one of Washington's aides," met the flag in the harbor, took 
Colonel Patterson into their barge, and escorted him to town, pass- 
ing in front of the grand battery. The customary precaution of 
blindfolding was dispensed with ; and there was a lively and socia- 
ble conversation the whole way. Washington received the 
adjutant-general at headquarters with much form and ceremony, 
in full military array, with his officers and guards about him. Col- 
onel Patterson, addressing him by the title oi your excellency, 
endeavored to explain the address of the letter as consistent with 
propriety, and founded on a similar address in the previous sum- 
mer, to General Howe. That General Howe did not mean to 
derogate from the respect or rank of General Washington, but con- 
ceived such an address consistent with what had been used by 
arnbassadors or plenipotentiaries where difficulties of rank had 
arisen. He then produced, but did not offer, a letter addressed to 
George Washington, Esquire, &c., &c., hoping that the et ceteras, 
which implied everything, would remove all impediments. Wash- 
ington replied, that it was true, the et ceteras implied everything, 
but they also imphed anything. His letter alluded to, of the pre- 
vious summer, was in reply to one addressed in like manner. A 
letter, he added, addressed to a person acting in a pubhc character, 
should have some inscriptions to designate it from a mere private 
letter ; and he should absolutely dechne any letter addressed to 
himself as a private person, when it related to his public station. 
Colonel Patterson, finding the letter would not be received, endeav- 
ored, as far as he could recollect, to communicate the scope of it 
in the course of a somewhat desultory conversation. What he 
chiefly dwelt upon was, that Lord Howe and his brother had been 
specially nominated commissioners for the promotion of peace, 
which was esteemed a mark of favor and regard to America ; 
that they had great powers, and would derive the highest pleasure 
from effecting an accommodation ; and he concluded by adding, 
that he wished his visit to be considered as making the first advance 
toward that desirable object. Washington replied that their pow- 
ers, it would seem, were only to grant pardons. Now those who 
had committed no fault needed no pardon ; and such was the case 
with the Americans, who were only defending what they consid- 
ered their indisputable rights. Colonel Patterson avoided a dis- 
cussion of this matter, which, he observed, would open a very 
wide field ; so here the conference, which had been conducted on 
both sides with great courtesy, terminated. The colonel took his 
leave, excusing himself from partaking of a collation, having made 
a late breakfast, and was again conducted to his boat. He 
expressed himself highly sensible of the courtesy of his treatment, 
in having the usual ceremony of blindfolding dispensed with. 
Washington received the applause of Congress and of the public 
for sustaining the dignity of his station. His conduct in this par- 
ticular was recommended as a model to all American officers in 



1776.1 BRITISH ON THE HUDSON. 235 

corresponding with the enemy ; and Lord Howe informed his gov- 
ernment that, thenceforward, it would be poHtic to change the 
superscription of his letters. 

In the mean time the irruption of the Phoenix and the Rose into 
the waters of the Hudson had roused a belligerent spirit along its 
borders. The lower part of that noble river is commanded on the 
eastern side by the bold woody heights of Manhattan Island and 
Westchester County, and on the western side by the rocky chffs 
of the Palisades. Beyond those chffs, the river expands into a suc- 
cession of what may almost be termed lakes ; first the Tappan Sea, 
then Haverstraw Bay, then the Bay of Peekskill ; separated from 
each other by long stretching points, or high beethng promontories, 
but affording ample sea room and safe anchorage. Then come 
the redoubtable Highlands, that strait, fifteen miles in length, where 
the river bends its course, narrow and deep, between rocky, forest- 
clad mountains. " He who has command of that grand defile," 
said an old navigator, "may at any time throttle tlie Hudson." 
The New York Convention, aware of the impending danger, dis- 
patched military envoys to stir up the yeomanry along the river, 
and order out mihtia. Powder and ball were sent to Tarrytown, 
before which the hostile ships were anchored, and yeoman troops 
were stationed there and along the neighboring shores of the Tap- 
pan Sea. In a little while the militia of Dutchess County and 
Cortlandt's Manor were hastening, rudely armed, to protect the 
public stores at Peekskill, and mount guard at the entrance of the 
Highlands. No one showed more zeal in this time of alarm, than 
Colonel Pierre Van Cortlandt, of an old colonial family, which held 
its manorial residence at the mouth of the Croton. With his regi- 
ment he kept a dragon watch along the eastern shore of the Tap- 
pan Sea and Haverstraw Bay ; while equal vigilance was main- 
tained night and day along the western shore, from Nyack quite up 
to the Donderberg, by Colonel Hay and his regiment of Haverstraw. 
Sheep and cattle were driven inland. Sentinels were posted to 
keep a lookout from heights and headlands and give the alarm 
should any boats approach the shore, and rustic marksmen were 
ready to assemble in a moment, and give them a warm reception. 

The ships-of-\var which caus-ed this alarm and turmoil, lay 
quietly anchored in the broad expanses of the Tappan Sea and 
Haverstraw Bay ; shifting their ground occasionally, and keeping 
out of musket shot of the shore, apparently sleeping in the summer 
sunshine, with awnings stretched above their decks ; while their 
boats were out taking soundings quite up to the Highlands. One 
of the tenders stood into the Bay of Peekskill, and beat up within 
long shot of Fort Montgomery, where General George CUnton was 
ensconced with six hundred of the militia of Orange and Ulster 
counties. As the tender approached, a thirty-two pounder was 
brought to range upon her. The ball passed through her quarter ; 
whereupon she put about, and ran round the point of the Donder- 
berg, where the boat landed, plundered a soHtary house at the 
foot of the mountain, and left it in flames. The marauders, on 
their way back to the ships, were severely galled by rustic marks- 



236 LIFE OF WASHING TON. 

men, from a neighboring promontory. The ships now moved up 
within six miles of Foit Montgomery, General Clinton apprehended 
they might mean to take advantage of a dark night, and slip by 
him in the deep shadows of the mountains. The shores were high 
and bold, the river was deep, the navigation of course safe and 
easy. Once above the Highlands, they might ravage the country 
beyond, and destroy certain vessels of war which were being con- 
structed at Poughkeepsie. To prevent this, he stationed a guard 
at night on the furthest point in view, about two miles and a half 
below the fort, prepared to kindle' a blazing fire should the ships 
appear in sight. Large piles of dry brushwood mixed with com- 
bustibles, were prepared at various places up and down the shore 
opposite to the fort, and men stationed to set fire to them as soon 
as a signal should be given from the lower point. The fort, there- 
fore, while it remained in darkness, would have a fair chance with 
its batteries as the ships passed between it and these conflagrations. 
Fire rafts were to be brought from Poughkeepsie and kept at hand 
ready for action. These were to be lashed two together, with 
chains, between old sloops filled with combustibles, and sent down 
with a strong wind and tide, to drive upon the ships. An iron 
chain, also, was to be stretched obliquely across the river from 
Fort Montgomery to the foot of Anthony's Nose, thus, as it were, 
chaining up the gate of the Highlands. For a protection below 
the Highlands, it was proposed to station whale-boats about the 
coves and promontories of Tappan Sea and Haverstraw Bay ; to 
reconnoiter the enemy, cruise about at night, carry intelligence 
from post to post, seize any river craft that might bring the ships 
supplies, and cut off their boats when attempting to land. Galleys, 
also, were prepared, with nine-pounders mounted at the bows. 

Washington was anxious to prevent an irruption of the enemy 
from Canada. He was grieved, therefore, to find there was a 
clashing of authorities between the generals who had charge of the 
Northern frontier. Gates, on his way to take command of the 
army in Canada, had heard with surprise in Albany, of its retreat 
across the New York frontier. He still considered it under his 
orders, and was proceeding to act accordingly ; when General Schuy- 
ler observed, that the resolution of Congress, and the instructions 
of Washington, applied to the army only while in Canada ; the 
moment it retreated within the limits of New York, it came within 
his (Schuyler's) command. That there might be no delay in the 
service at this critical juncture, the two generals agreed to refer the 
question of command to Congress, and in the mean time to act in 
concert. They accordingly departed together for Lake Cham- 
plain, to prepare against an anticipated invasion by Sir Guy Carle- 
ton. They arrived at Crown Point on the 6th of July, and found 
there the wrecks of the army recently driven out of Canada. They 
had been harassed in their retreat by land ; their transportation on 
the lake had been in leaky boats, without awnings, where the sick, 
suffering from small-pox, lay on straw, exposed to a burning July 
sun ; no food but salt pork, often rancid, hard biscuit or unbaked 
flour, and scarcely any medicine. Not more than six thousand 



1776.] NORTHERN NEW YORK. 237 

men had reached Crown Point, and half of those were on the sick 
list ; the shattered remains of twelve or fifteen very fine battalions. 
Some few were sheltered in tents, some under sheds, and others in 
huts hastily formed of bushes ; scarce one of which but contained 
a dead or dying man. Two thousand eight hundred were to be 
sent to a hospital recently established at the south end of Lake 
George, a distance of fifty miles ; when they were gone, with those 
who were to row them in boats, there would remain but the shadow 
of an army. In a council of war, it was determined that, under 
present circumstances, the post of Crown Point was not tenable ; 
and that, therefore, it was expedient to fall back, and take a strong 
position at Ticonderoga. 

On the 9th of July, Schuyler and Gates returned to Ticonderoga, 
accompanied by Arnold. Instant arrangements were made to 
encamp the troops, and land the artillery and stores as fast as they 
should arrive. Great exertions, also, were made to strengthen the 
defences of the place. Preparations were made, also, to augment 
the naval force on the lakes. Ship carpenters from the Eastern 
States were employed at Skenesborough, to build the hulls of gal- 
leys and boats, which, when launched, were to be sent down to 
Ticonderoga for equipment and armament, under the superinten- 
dence of General Arnold. 

A letter from the President of Congress, dated July 8th, informed 
General Gates, that according to the resolution of that body under 
which he had been appointed, his command was totally indepen- 
dent of General Schuyler, while the army was in Canada^ but no 
longer. Congress had no design to divest General Schuyler of the 
command while the troops were on this side of Canada. To 
Schuyler, under the same date, the president writes : "The Con- 
gress highly approve of your patriotism and magnanimity in not 
suffering any difference of opinion to hurt the public service." 
Gates professed himself entirely satisfied with the explanation he 
had received, and perfectly disposed to obey the commands of 
Schuyler. "I am confident," added he, "we shall, as the Con- 
gress wish, go hand in hand to promote the public welfare." 
Schuyler, too, assured both Congress and Washington, " that the 
difference in opinion between Gates and himself had not caused 
the least ill-will, nor interrupted that harmony necessary to subsist 
between their officers." Samuel Adams, however, who was at 
that time in Congress, had strong doubts in the matter. "Schuy- 
ler and Gates are to command the troops," writes he, "the former 
while they are without, the latter while they are within the bounds 
of Canada. Admitting these generals to have the accomplishments 
of a Marlborough, or a Eugene, I cannot conceive that such a dis- 
position of them will be attended with any good effects, unless har- 
mony subsists between them. Alas, I fear this is not the case. 
Already disputes have arisen, which they have referred to Con- 
gress ; and, although they affect to treat each other with a polite- 
ness becoming their rank, in my mind, altercations between com- 
manders who have pretensions nearly equal (1 mean in point of 
command), forbode a repetition of misfortune. I sincerely wish 



238 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

my apprehensions may prove groundless." John Adams, speak- 
ing of the violent passions and discordant interests at work through- 
out the country, from Florida to Canada, observes : " It requires 
more serenity of temper, a deeper understanding, and more courage 
than fell to the lot of Marlborough, to ride in this whirlwind." 

Letters from Gen. Lee gave Washington intelligence of the fate 
of Sir Henry Clinton's expedition, which had been the subject of 
so much surmise and perplexity. Sir Henry in his cruise along the 
coast had been repeatedly foiled by Lee. First, when he looked 
in at New York; next, when he paused at Norfolk in Virginia ; and 
lastly, when he made a bold attempt at Charleston in South Caro- 
lina ; for scarce did his ships appear off the bar of the harbor, 
than the omnipresent Lee was marching his troops into the city. 
Within a year past, Charleston had been fortified at various points. 
Fort Johnson, on James Island, three miles from the city, and com- 
manding the breadth of the channel, was garrisoned by a regiment 
of South Carolina regulars under Colonel Gadsden. A strong fort 
had recently been constructed nearly opposite, on the southwest 
point of Sullivan's Island, about six miles below the city. It was 
mounted with twenty-six guns, and garrisoned by three hundred 
and seventy-five regulars and a few militia, and commanded by 
Col. William Moultrie, of South Carolina, who had constructed it. 
This fort, in connection with that on James Island, was considered 
the key of the harbor. Cannon had also been mounted on Had- 
drell's Point on the mainland, to the north-west of Sullivan's 
Island, and along the bay in front of the town. The arrival of Gen. 
Lee gave great joy to the people of Charleston, from his high 
reputation for military skill and experience. According to his own 
account, the town on his arrival was "utterly defenceless." He 
was rejoiced therefore, when the enemy, instead of immediately 
attacking it, directed his whole force against the fort on Sullivan's 
Island. " He has lost an opportunity, ' ' said Lee, • ' such as I hope will 
never occur again, of taking the town." The British ships, in fact, 
having passed the bar with some difficulty, landed their troops on 
Long Island, situated to the east of Sullivan's Island, and separated 
from it by a small creek called the Breach. Clinton meditated a 
combined attack with his land and naval forces /)n the fort com- 
manded by Moultrie; the capture of which, he thought, would 
insure the reduction of Charleston. The Americans immediately 
threw up works on the north-eastern extremity of SulHvan's Island, 
to prevent the passage of the enemy over the Breach, stationing a 
force of regulars and mihtia there, under Col. Thompson. Gen. 
Lee encamped on Haddrell's Point, on the mainland, to the north 
of the island, whence he intended to keep up a communication by 
a bridge of boats, so as to be ready at any moment to aid either 
Moultrie or Thompson. Clinton, on the other hand, had to con- 
struct batteries on Long Island, to oppose those of Thompson, and 
cover the passage of his troops by boats or by the ford. Thus 
lime was consumed, and the enemy Avere, from the ist to the 28th 
of June, preparing for the attack ; their troops suffering from the 
intense heat of the sun on the burning sands of Long Island, and 



1776.] THE BRITISH A T CHARLESTON. 239 

both fleet and army complaining of brackish water and scanty and 
bad provisions. At length on the 28th of June, the Thunder Bomb 
commenced the attack, throwing shells at the fort as the fleet, 
under Sir Peter Parker, advanced. About eleven o'clock the ships 
dropped their anchors directly before the front battery. '■' I was at 
this time in a boat," writes Lee, "endeavoring to make the island ; 
but the wind and tide being violently against us, drove us on the 
main. They immediately commenced the most furious fire I ever 
heard or saw. I confess I was in pain, from the little confidence I 
reposed in our troops ; the officers being all boys, and the men raw 
recruits. What augmented my anxiety was, that we had no bridge 
finished for retreat or communication; and the creek or cove which 
separates it from the continent is near a mile wide. I had received, 
likewise, intelligence that their land troops intended at the same 
time to land and assault. I never in my life felt myself so uneasy ; 
and what added to my uneasiness was, that I knew our stock of 
ammunition was miserably low. 1 passed the creek or cove in 
a small boat, in order to animate the garrison in propria persona; 
but I found they had no occasion for such an encouragement. 
They were pleased with my visit, and assured me they never would 
abandon the post but with their lives. The cool courage they dis- 
played astonished and enraptured me. The noble fellows who 
were mortally wounded, conjured their brethren never to abandon 
the standard of liberty. Those who lost their limbs deserted not 
their posts. Upon the whole, they acted hke Romans in the third 
century." The fire from the ships did not produce tlie expected 
effect. The fortifications were low, composed of earth and pal- 
metto wood, which is soft, and makes no splinters, and the merlons 
were extremely thick. At one time there was a considerable pause 
in the American fire, because the powder was exhausted. As soon 
as a supply could be forwarded from the mainland by General Lee, 
the fort resumed its fire with still more deadly effect Through 
unskilful pilotage, several of the ships ran aground, where one, the 
frigate Actaeon, remained; the rest were extricated with difficulty. 
Those which bore the brunt of the action were much cut up. One 
hundred and seventy-five men were killed, and nearly as many 
wounded. Captain Scott, commanding the Experiment, of fifty 
guns, lost an arm, and was otherwise wounded. Captain 
Morris, commanding the Actaeon, was slain. So also was Lord 
Campbell, late governor of the province, who served as a vol- 
unteer on board of the squadron. Sir Henry Clinton, with two 
thousand troops and five or six hundred seamen, attempted repeat- 
edly to cross from Long Island, and cooperate in the 
attack upon the fort, but was as often foiled by Col. Thompson, 
with his battery of two cannon, and a body of South CaroUna 
rangers and North Carolina regulars. The combat slackened 
before sunset, and ceased before ten o'clock. Sir Peter Parker, 
who had received a severe contusion in the engagement, then 
slipped his cables, and drew off his shattered ships to Five Fathom 
Hole. The Actaeon remained aground. On the following morn- 
ing Clinton made another attempt to cross from Long Island to 



240 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Sullivan's Island ; but was again repulsed, and obliged to take 
shelter behind his breastworks. Sir Peter Parker, too, giving up 
all hope of reducing the fort in the shattered condition of his ships, 
ordered that the Actaeon should be set on fire and abandoned. 
The crew left her in flames, with the guns loaded, and the colors 
flying. The Americans boarded her in time to haul down her 
colors, and secure them as a trophy, discharge her guns at one of 
the enemy's ships, and load three boats with stores. They then 
abandoned her to her fate, and in half an hour she blew up. 
Within a few days the troops were reembarked from Long Island ; 
the attempt upon Charleston was for the present abandoned, and 
the fleet once more put to sea. In this action, one of the severest 
in the whole course of the war, the loss of the Americans in killed 
and wounded, was but thirty-five men. Col. Moultrie derived the 
greatest glory from the defence of Sullivan's Island; though the 
thanks of Congress were voted as well to Gen. Lee, Col. Thomp- 
son, and those under their command. The tidings of this signal 
repulse of the enemy came most opportunely to Washington, when 
he was apprehending an attack upon New York. He announced 
it to the army in a general order of the 21st July. "This gen- 
erous example of our troops under the like circumstances with us, 
the General hopes, will animate every officer and soldier to imitate, 
and even outdo them, when the enemy shall make the same attempt 
on us. With such a bright example before us of what can be done 
by brave men fighting in defence of their country, we shall be 
loaded with a double share of shame and infamy if we do not 
acquit ourselves with courage, and manifest a determined resolu- 
tion to conquer or die." 

In the course of a few days arrived a hundred sail, with large 
reinforcements, among which were one thousand Hessians, and as 
many more were reported to be on the way. The troops were dis- 
embarked on Staten Island, and fortifications thrown up on some 
of the most commanding hills. All projects of attack upon the 
enemy were now out of the question. Indeed, some of W^ashing- 
ton's ablest advisers questioned the policy of remaining in New 
York, where they might be entrapped as the British had been in 
Boston. Reed, the adjutant-general, observed that, as the com- 
munication by the Hudson was interrupted, there was nothing now 
to keep them at New York but a mere point of honor ; in the mean 
time, they endangered the loss of the army and its military stores. 
During the latter part of July, and the early part of August, ships 
of war with their tenders continued to arrive, and Scotch High- 
landers, Hessians, and other troops to be landed on Staten Island. 
At the beginning of August, the squadron with Sir Henry Clinton, 
recently repulsed at Charleston, anchored in the bay. "His 
coming," writes Col. Reed, "was as unexpected as if he had 
dropped from the clouds." He was accompanied by Lord Corn- 
wallis, and brought three thousand troops. 

The force of the enemy collected in the neighborhood of New 
York was about thirty thousand men ; that of the Americans a little 
more than seventeen thousand, but was subsequently increased to 



1776.] ADVANTAGE FROM THE FLEETS. 241 

twenty thousand, for the most part raw and undisciplined. One 
fourth were on the sick list with bilious and putrid fevers and dys- 
entery ; others were absent on furlough or command ; the rest had 
to be distributed over posts and stations fifteen miles apart. The 
sectional jealousies prevalent among them were more and more a 
subject of uneasiness to Washington. In one of his general orders 
he observes : " It is with great concern that the General understands 
that jealousies have arisen among the troops from the different pro- 
vinces, and reflections are frequently thrown out which can only 
tend to irritate each other, and injure the noble cause in which we 
are engaged, and which we ought to support with one hand and 
one heart. The General most earnestly entreats the officers and 
soldiers to consider the consequences ; that they can no way assist 
our enemies more effectually than by making divisions among our- 
selves ; that the honor and success of the army, and the safety of 
our bleeding country, depend upon harmony and good agreement 
with each other ; that the provinces are all united to oppose the 
common enemy, and all distinctions sunk in the name of an Ameri- 
can. To make this name honorable, and to preserve the liberty 
of our country, ought to be our only emulation ; and he will be the 
best soldier and the best patriot, who contributes most to this 
glorious work, whatever be his station, or from whatever part of 
the continent he may come. Let all distinction of nations, coun- 
tries and provinces, therefore, be lost in the generous contest, who 
shall behave with the most courage against the enemy, and the 
most kindness and good-humor to each other. If there be any 
officers or soldiers so lost to virtue and a love of their country, as 
to continue in such practices after this order, the general assures 
them, and is authorized by Congress to declare to the whole army, 
that such persons shall be severely punished, and dismissed from 
the service with disgrace." The urgency of such a general order 
is apparent in that early period of our confederation, when its 
various parts had not as yet been sufficiently welded together to 
acquire a thorough feeling of nationality ; yet what an enduring 
lesson does it furnish for every stage of our Union! 

Washington kept the most watchful eye upon the movements ot 
the- enemy. Beside their great superiority in point of numbers as 
well as discipline, to his own crude and scanty legions, they 
possessed a vast advantage in their fleet. " They would not be 
half the enemy they are," observed Colonel Reed, "if they were 
once separated from their ships." Every arrival and departure of 
these, therefore, was a subject of speculation and conjecture. 
Aaron Burr, at that time in New York, aide-de-camp to General 
Putnam, speaks, in a letter to an uncle, of thirty transports, which, 
under convoy of three frigates, had put to sea on the 7th of 
August, with the intention of sailing round Long Island and com- 
ing through the Sound, and thus investing the city by the North 
and East Rivers. "They are then to land on both sides of the 
island," writes he, "join their forces, and draw a line across, 
which will hem us in, and totally cut off all communication ; after 
which, they will have their own fun." He adds : "They hold us 



242 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

in the utmost contempt. Talk of forcing all our lines without firing a 
gun. The bayonet is their pride. They have forgot Bunker's 
Hill." The Convention of the State ordered out hasty levies of 
country militia, to form temporary camps on the shore of the 
Sound, and on that of the Hudson above King's Bridge, to annoy 
the enemy, should they attempt to land from their ships on either 
of these waters. Others were sent to reinforce the posts on Long 
Island. As Kings County on Long Island was noted for being a 
stronghold of the disaffected, the Convention ordered that, should 
any of the militia of that county refuse to serve, they should be dis- 
armed and secured, and their possessions laid waste. Many of 
the yeomen of the country, thus hastily summoned from the plow, 
were destitue of arms, in lieu of which they were ordered to bring 
with them a shovel, spade, or pickaxe, or a scythe straightened 
and fastened to a pole. This rustic array may have provoked the 
thoughtless sneers of scoffers ; but it was in truth one of the glor- 
ilious features of the Revolution, to be thus aided in its emergen- 
cies by "hasty levies of husbandmen." Washington had 
appointed General George Clinton to the command of the levies 
on both sides of the Hudson. He now ordered him to hasten 
down with them to the fort just erected on the north side of King's 
Bridge ; leaving two hundred men under the command of a brave 
and alert officer to throw up works at the pass of Anthony's Nose, 
where the main road to Albany crosses that mountain. Troops of 
horse also were to be posted by him along the river to watch the 
motions of the enemy. Washington now made the last solemn 
preparations for the impending conflict. All suspected persons, 
whose presence might promote the plans of the enemy, were 
removed to a distance. All papers respecting aft'airs of State were 
put up in a large case, to be delivered to Congress. As to his 
domestic arrangements, Mrs. Washington had some time previously 
gone to Philadelphia, with the intention of returning to Virginia, as 
there was no prospect of her being with him any part of the sum- 
mer, which threatened to be one of turmoil and danger. The other 
ladies, wives of general officers, who used to grace and enliven 
headquarters, had all been sent out of the way of the storm which 
was lowering over this devoted city. 

Reports from different quarters gave Washington reason to 
apprehend that the design of the enemy might be to land part of 
their force on Long Island, and endeavor to get possession of the 
heights of Brooklyn, which overlooked New York ; while another 
part should land above the city, as General Heath suggested. Thus, 
various disconnected points distant from each other, and a great 
extent of intervening country, had to be defended by raw troops, 
against a superior force, well disciplined, and possessed of every 
facility for operating by land and water. Gen. Greene, with a 
considerable force, was stationed at Brooklyn. He had acquainted 
himself with all the localities of the island, from Hell Gate to the 
Narrows, and made his plan of defence accordingly. His troops 
were diligently occupied in works which he laid out, about a 
mile beyond the village of Brooklyn, and facing the interior of the 



I776.J THE ENEMY ON LONG ISLAND. 243 

island, whence a land attack might be attempted. Brooklyn was 
immediately opposite to New York. The Sound, commonly 
called the East River, in that place about three quarters of a mile 
in width, swept its rapid tides between them. The village stood on 
a kind of peninsula, formed by the deep inlets of Wallabout Bay on 
the north, and Gowanus Cove on the south. A line of intrench- 
ments and strong redoubts extended across the neck of the penin- 
sula, from the bay to a swamp and creek emptying into the cove. 
To protect the rear of the works from the enemy's ships, a battery 
was erected at Red Hook, the south-west corner of the peninsula, 
and a fort on Governor's Island, nearly opposite. About two miles 
and a half in front of the line of intrenchments and redoubts, a 
range ©f hills, densely wooded, extended from southwest to north- 
east, forming a natural barrier across the island. It was traversed 
by three roads. One, on the left of the works, stretched east- 
wardly to Bedford, and then by a pass through the Bedford Hills 
to the village of Jamaica ; another, central and direct, led through 
the woody heights to Flatbush ; a third, on the right of the lines, 
passed by Gowanus Cove to the Narrows and Gravesend Bay. 
The occupation of this range of hills, and the protection of its 
passes, had been designed by Gen. Greene ; but unfortunately, in 
the midst of his arduous toils, he was taken down by a raging 
fever, which confined him to his bed ; and Gen. Sullivan, just 
returned from Lake Champlain, had the temporary command. 
Washington saw that to prevent the enemy from landing on Long 
Island would be impossible, its great extent affording so many 
places favorable for that purpose, and the American works 
being at the part opposite to New York. On August 22d the 
enemy appeared to be carrying their plans into execution. The 
reports of cannon and musketry were heard from Long Island, and 
columns of smoke were descried rising above the groves and 
orchards at a distance. The city, as usual, was alarmed, and had 
reason to be so ; for word soon came that several thousand men, 
with artillery and light-horse, were landed at Gravesend ; and that 
Colonel Hand, stationed there with the Pennsylvania rifle regi- 
ment, had retreated to the lines, setting fire to stacks of wheat, and 
other articles, to keep them from falling into the enemy's 
hands. Washington apprehended an attempt of the foe by a 
forced march, to surprise the lines at Brooklyn. He immediately 
sent over a reinforcement of six battalions. It was all that he 
could spare, as with the next tide the ships might bring up the 
residue of the army, and attack the city. Five battalions more, 
however, were ordered to be ready as a reinforcement, if required. 
"Be cool, but determined," was the exhortation given to the 
departing troops, " Do not fire at a distance, but wait the com- 
mands of your officers. It is the General's express orders, that if 
any man attempt to skulk, lie down, or retreat without orders, he 
be instantly shot down for an example." In justice to the poor 
fellows, most of whom w^ere going for the first time on a service of 
life and death, Washington observes, that "they went off in high 
spirits." 



244 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

Nine thousand of the enemy had landed, with forty pieces of 
cannon. Sir Henry Clinton had the chief command, and led the 
first division. His associate officers were the Earls of Cornwallis and 
Percy, Gen. Grant, and Gen. Sir William Erskine. As their boats 
approached the shore. Col. Hand retreated to the chain of wooded 
hills, and took post on a height commanding the central road lead- 
ing from Flatbush. The enemy having landed without opposition. 
Lord Cornwallis was detached with the reserve to Flatbush, while 
the rest of the army extended itself from the ferry at the Narrows 
through Utrecht and Gravesend, to the village of Flatland. Corn- 
wallis, with two battalions of light-infantry. Colonel Donop's corps 
of Hessians, and six field-pieces, advanced rapidly to seize upon 
the central pass through the hills. He found Hand and his rifle- 
men ready to make a vigorous defence. This brought him to a 
halt, having been ordered not to risk an attack should the pass be 
occupied. He took post for the night, therefore, in the village of 
Flatbush. It was evidently the aim of the enemy to force the 
lines at Brooklyn, and get possession of the heights. Should they 
succeed, New York would be at their mercy. The panic and dis- 
tress of the inhabitants went on increasing. Most of those who 
could afford it, had already removed to the country. Head- 
quarters were besieged by applicants for safeguard from the 
impending danger ; and Washington was even beset in his walks 
by supplicating women with their children. The patriot's heart 
throbbed feelingly under the soldier's belt. Nothing could sur- 
pass the patience and benignant sympathy with which he list- 
ened to them, and endeavored to allay their fears. Again he 
urged the Convention to carry out their measures for the removal 
of these defenceless beings. " There are many," writes he, " who 
anxiously wish to remove, but have not the means." On the 24th 
he crossed over to Brooklyn, to inspect the lines and reconnoiter 
the neighborhood. The American advanced posts were in the 
wooded hills. Col. Hand kept watch over the central road, and a 
strong redoubt had been thrown up in front of the pass, to check 
any advance of the enemy from Flatbush. Another road leading 
from Flatbush to Bedford, by which the enemy might get round to 
the left of the works at Brooklyn, was guarded by two regiments, 
one under Col. Williams, posted on the north side of the ridge, the 
other by a Pennsylvanian rifle regiment, under Col. Miles, posted on 
the south side. The enemy were stretched along the country beyond 
the chain of hills. It was with deep concern Washington noticed 
a prevalent disorder and confusion in the camp. There was a want 
of system among the officers, and cooperation among the troops, 
each corps seeming to act independently of the rest. Few of the 
men had any military experience, except, perchance, in bush-fight- 
ing with the Indians. Unaccustomed to discipline and the 
restraint of camps, they sallied forth whenever they pleased, singly 
or in squads, prowling about and firing upon the enemy, like 
hunters after game. Much of this was no doubt owing to the pro- 
tracted illness of Gen. Greene. On returning to the city, therefore, 
Washington gave the command on Long Island to Gen. Putnam, 



1776.] A NOCTURNAL MARCH, 245 

warning him, however, in his letter of instructions, to summon the 
officers together, and enjoin them to put a stop to the irregularities 
which he had observed among the troops. Lines of defence were 
to be formed round the encampment, and works on the most 
advantageous ground. Especial attention was called to the 
wooded hills between the works and the enemy's camp. The passes 
through them were to be secured by abatis, and defended by the 
best troops, who should, at all hazards, prevent the approach of 
the enemy. Putnam crossed with alacrity to his post. "He was 
made happy," writes Col. Reed, " by obtaining leave to go over. 
The brave old man was quite miserable at being kept here." In 
the mean time, the enemy were augmenting their forces on the 
island. Two brigades of Hessians, under Lieutenant-General De 
Heister, were transferred from the camp on Staten Island on the 
25th. This movement did not escape the vigilant eye of Wash- 
ington. By the aid of his telescope, he had noticed that from time 
to time tents were struck on Staten Island, and portions of the 
encampment broken up ; while ship after ship weighed anchor,and 
dropped down to the Narrows. He now concluded that the enemy 
were about to make a push with their main force for the possession 
of Brooklyn Heights. He accordingly sent over additional rein- 
forcements, and among them Col. John Haslet's well equipped and 
well disciplined Delaware regiment ; which was joined to Lord 
Stirhng's brigade, chiefly composed of Southern troops, and sta- 
tioned outside of the lines. These were troops which Washington 
regarded with peculiar satisfaction, on account of their soldierlike 
appearance and discipline. On the 26th, he crossed over to 
Brooklyn, accompanied by Reed, the adjutant-general. There 
was much movement among the enemy's troops, and their 
number was evidently augmented. In fact, Gen. De Heister 
had reached Flatbush with his Hessians, and taken command 
of the center ; whereupon Clinton, with the right wing, drew 
off to Flatlands, in a diagonal line to the right of De Heister, 
whtle the left wing, commanded by General Grant, extended to 
the place of landing on Gravesend Bay. Washington remained 
all day, aiding Gen. Putnam with his counsels, who, new to the 
command, had not been able to make himself well acquainted 
with the fortified posts beyond the lines. In the evening, Wash- 
ington returned to the city, full of anxious thought. A general 
attack was evidently at hand. Where would it be made ? How 
would his inexperienced troops stand the encounter? What would 
be the defence of the city if assailed by the ships ? It was a night 
of intense solicitude, and well might it be ; for during that night a 
plan was carried into effect, fraught with disaster to the Amer- 
icans. About nine o'clock, Clinton began his march from Flat- 
lands with the vanguard, composed of light infantry. Lord Percy 
followed with the grenadiers, artillery, and light dragoons, form- 
ing the center. Lord Cornwallis brought up the rear-guard with 
the heavy ordnance. Gen. Howe accompanied this division. It 
was a silent march, without beat of drum or sound of trumpet, 
under guidance of a Long Island tory, along by-roads traversing 



246 UFE OF WASHINGTON. 

a swamp by a narrow causeway, and so across the country to the 
Jamaica road. About two hours before daybreak, they arrived 
within half a mile of the pass through the Bedford Hills, and halted 
to prepare for an attack. At this juncture they captured an Ameri- 
can patrol, and learned, to their surprise, that the Bedford pass 
was unoccupied. In fact, the whole road beyond Bedford, leading 
to Jamaica, had been left unguarded, excepting by some light vol- 
unteer troops. Colonels Williams and Miles, who were stationed 
to the left of Col. Hand, among the wooded hills, had been 
instructed to send out parties occasionally to patrol the road, but 
no troops had been stationed at the Bedford pass. The road and 
pass may not have been included in Gen. Greene's plan of defence, 
or may have been thought too far out of the way to need special 
precaution. The neglect of them, however, proved fatal. Clinton 
immediately detached a battalion of light infantry to secure the 
pass ; and, advancing with his corps at the first break of day, 
possessed himself of the heights. He was now within three miles 
of Bedford, and his march had been undiscovered. 

About midnight Gen. Grant moved from Gravesend Bay, with 
the left wing, composed of two brigades and a regiment of regu- 
lars, a battalion of New York loyahsts, and ten field-pieces. He 
proceeded along the road leading past the Narrows and Gowanus 
Cove, toward the right of the American w orks, A picket guard of 
Pennsylvanian and New York militia, under Col. Atlee, retired 
before him, fighting, to a position on the skirts of the wooded hills. 
In the mean time scouts had brought in word to the American hnes 
that the enemy were approaching in force upon the right. Gen. 
Putnam instantly ordered Lord Stirhng to hasten with the two 
regiments nearest at hand, and hold them in check. These were 
Haslet's Delaware, and Smallwood's Maryland regiments; the 
latter the inacarojtis, in scarlet and buff, who had outshone, in 
camp, their yeoman fellow-soldiers in homespun. They turned out 
with great alacrity, and Stirhng pushed fonvard with them on the 
road toward the Narrows. By the time he had passed Gowanus 
Cove, daylight began to appear. Here, on a rising ground, he 
met Col. Atlee with his Pennsylvania Provincials, and learned that 
the enemy were near. Indeed, their front began to appear in the 
uncertain twilight. Stirling ordered Atlee to place himself in 
ambush in an orchard on the left of the road, and await their com- 
ing up, while he formed the Delaware and Maryland regiments 
along a ridge from the road up to a piece of woods on the top of 
the hill. Atlee gave the enemy two or three volleys as they 
approached, and then retreated and formed in the wood on Loud 
Stirling's left. By this time his lordship was reinforced by Kich- 
line's riflemen, part of whom he placed along a hedge at the foot 
of the hill, and part in front of the wood. Gen. Grant threw his 
light troops in the advance, and posted them in an orchard and 
behind hedges, extending in front of the Americans, and about 
one hundred and fifty yards distant. It was now broad daylight. 
A rattling fire commenced between the British light troops and the 
American riflemen, which continued for about two hours, when the 



1776.] THE CATASTROPHE. 247 

former retired to their main body. In the mean time, Slirhng's 
position had been strengthened by the arrival of Capt. Carpenter 
with two field-pieces. These were placed on the side of the hill, 
so as to command the road and the approach for some hundred 
yards. Gen. Grant, likewise, brought up his artillery within three 
hundred yards, and formed his brigades on opposite hills, about 
six hundred yards distant. There was occasional cannonading on 
both sides, but neither party sought a general action. Lord Stir- 
ling's object w^as merely to hold the enemy in check; and the 
instructions of Gen. Grant were not to press an attack until aware 
that CUnton was on the left flank of the Americans. During this 
time, De Heister had commenced his part of the plan by opening 
a cannonade from his camp at Flatbush, upon the redoubt, at the 
pass of the wooded hills, where Hand and his riflemen were sta- 
tioned. On hearing this. Gen. Sullivan, who was within the lines, 
rode forth to Col. Hand's post to reconnoiter. De Heister, how- 
ever, according to the plan of operations, did not advance from 
Flatbush, but kept up a brisk fire from his artillery on the redoubt 
in front of the pass, which replied as briskly. At the same time, a 
cannonade from a British ship upon the battery at Red Hook, 
contributed to distract the attention of the Americans. 

Seeing no likelihood of an immediate attack upon the city, 
Washington hastened over to Brooklyn in his barge, and galloped 
up to the works. He arrived there in time to witness the catas- 
trophe for which all the movements of the enemy had been con- 
certed. The thundering of artillery in the direction of Bedford 
had given notice that Sir Henry had turned the left of the Amer- 
cans. De Heister immediately ordered Count Donop to advance 
with his Hessian regiment, and storm the redoubt, while he 
followed with his whole division. Sullivan did not remain to defend 
the redoubt. Sir Henry's cannon had apprised him of the fatal 
truth, that his flank was turned, and he in danger of being sur- 
rounded. He ordered a retreat to the lines, but it was already too 
late. Scarce had he descended from the height, and emerged into 
the plain, when he was met by the British light infantry and dra- 
goons, and driven back into the woods. By this time De 
Heister and his Hessians had come up, and now commenced a 
scene of confusion, consternation, and slaughter, in which the 
troops under Williams and Miles w-ere involved. Hemmed in and 
entrapped between the British and Hessians, and driven from one 
to the other, the Americans fought for a time bravely, or rather 
desperately. Some were cut down and trampled by the cavalry, 
others bayoneted without mercy by the Hessians. Some rallied in 
groups, and made a brief stand with their rifles from rocks or 
behind trees. The whole pass was a scene of carnage, resounding 
with the clash of arms, the tramp of horses, the volleying of fire- 
arms and the cries of the combatants, with now and then the 
dreary braying of the trumpet. We give the words of one who 
mingled in the fight, and whom we have heard speak w ith horror 
of the sanguinary fury with which the Hessians plied the bayonet. 
At length some of the Americans, by a desperate effort, cut their 



248 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

way through the host of foes, and effected a retreat to the lines, 
fighting as they went. Others took refuge among the woods and 
fastnesses of the hills, but a great part were either killed or taken 
prisoners. Among the latter was General Sullivan. 

Washington had heard the din of the battle in the woods, and 
seen the smoke rising from among the trees ; but a deep column of 
the enemy was descending from the hills on the left ; his choicest 
troops were all in action, and he had none but militia to man the 
works. His solicitude was now awakened for the safety of Lord 
Stirhng and his corps, who had been all the morning exchanging 
cannonades with General Grant. He saw the danger to which 
these brave fellows were exposed, though they could not. Stationed 
on a hill within the lines, he commanded, with his telescope, a 
view of the whole field, and saw the enemy's reserve, under Corn- 
wallis, marching down by a cross-road to get in their rear and thus 
place them between two fires. With breathless anxiety he watched 
the result. The sound of Clinton's cannon apprised Stirhng that 
the enemy was between him and the lines. Gen. Grant, too, aware 
that the time had come for earnest action, was closing up, and had 
already taken Col. Atlee prisoner. His lordship now thought to 
effect a circuitous retreat to the lines, by crossing the creek which 
empties into Gowanus Cove, near what was called the Yellow 
Mills. There was a bridge and mill-dam, and the creek might be 
forded at low water, but no time was to be lost, for the tide was 
rising. Leaving part of his men to keep face toward Gen. Grant, 
Stirling advanced with the rest to pass the creek, but was suddenly 
checked by the appearance of Cornwalhs and his grenadiers, 
Washington supposed that Stirling and his troops, finding the case 
desperate, would surrender in a body, without firing. On the con- 
trary, his lordship boldly attacked Cornwallis with half of Small- 
wood's battalion, while the rest of his troops retreated across the 
creek. Washington wrung his hands in agony at the sight. 
"Good God!" cried he, "what brave fellows I must this day 
lose ! " It was, indeed, a desperate fight ; and now Smallwood's 
macaronis showed their game spirit. They were repeatedly 
broken, but as often rallied, and renewed the fight. " We were on 
the point of driving Lord Cornwallis from his station," writes Lord 
Stirling " but large reinforcements arriving, rendered it impossi- 
ble to do more than provide for safety." More than two hundred 
and fifty brave fellows, most of them of Smallwood's regiment, 
perished in this deadly struggle, within sight of the hnes of Brook- 
lyn. That part of the Delaware troops who had first crossed the 
creek and swamp, made good their retreat to the lines with a trifl- 
ing loss, and entered the camp covered with mud and drenched 
with water, but bringing with them twenty-three prisoners, and 
their standard tattered by grapeshot. 

The enemy now concentrated their forces within a few hundred 
yards of the redoubts. The grenadiers were within musket shot. 
Washington expected they would storm the works, and prepared 
for a desperate defence. The discharge of a cannon and volleys 
of musketry from the part of the lines nearest to them, seemed to 



1 776. J CAUSES OF OUR DEFEAT. 249 

bring them to a pause. It was, in truth, the forbearance of the 
British commander that prevented a bloody conflict. His troops, 
heated with action and flushed with success, were eager to storm 
the works ; but he was unwilling to risk the loss of life that must 
attend an assault, when the object might be attained at a cheaper 
rate, by regular approaches. Checking the ardor of his men, 
therefore, though with some difficulty, he drew them off to a hollow 
way, in front of the hnes, but out of reach of the musketry, and 
encamped there for the night. 

The loss of the Americans in this disastrous battle has been 
variously stated, but is thought in killed, wounded and prisoners, 
to have been nearly two thousand ; a large number, considering 
that not above five thousand were engaged. The enemy acknow- 
ledged a loss of 380 killed and wounded. The success of the 
enemy was attributed, in some measure, to the doubt in which 
Washington was kept as to the nature of the intended attack, and 
at what point it would chiefly be made. This obliged him to keep 
a great part of his forces in New York, and to distribute those at 
Brooklyn over a wide extent of country, and at widely distant 
places. In fact, he knew not the superior number of the enemy 
encamped on Long Island, a majority of them having been fur- 
tively landed in the night, some days after the debarkation of the 
first division. Much of the day's disaster has been attributed, also, 
to a confusion in the command, caused by the illness of Gen. Greene. 
Putnam, who had supplied his place in the emergency after the 
enemy had landed, had not time to make himself acquainted with 
the post, and the surrounding country. The fatal error, however, 
and one probably arising from all these causes, consisted in 
leaving tlie passes through the wooded hills too weakly fortified 
and guarded ; and especially in neglecting the eastern road, by 
which Sir Henry Clinton got in the rear of the advanced troops, 
cut them off from the lines, and subjected them to a cross fire of 
his own men and De Heister's Hessians. This able and fatal 
scheme of the enemy might have been thwarted, had the army 
been provided with a few troops of light-horse, to serve as vedettes. 
With these to scour the roads and bring intelligence, the night 
march of Clinton, so decisive of the fortunes of the day, could 
hardly have failed to be discovered and reported. The Connecti- 
cut horsemen, therefore, ridiculed by the Southerners for their 
homely equipments, sneered at as useless, and dismissed for stand- 
ing on their dignity and privileges as troopers, might, if retained, 
have saved tlie army from being surprised and severed, its 
advanced guards routed, and those very Southern troops cut up, 
captured, and almost annihilated. 

The night after the battle was a weary, yet almost sleepless one 
to the Americans. Fatigued, dispirited, many of them sick and 
wounded, yet they were, for the most part, without tent or other 
shelter. To Washington it was a night of anxious vigil. Every- 
boded a close and deadly conflict. The enemy had pitched a 
number of tents about a mile distant. Their sentries were but a 
quarter of a mile off, and close to the American sentries. At four 



250 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

o'clock in the morning, Washington went the roimd of the works, 
to see that all was right, and to speak words of encouragement. 
The morning broke lowering and dreary. Large encampments 
were gradually descried ; to appearance, the enemy were twenty 
thousand strong. As the day advanced, their ordinance began to 
play upon the works. They were proceeding to intrench them- 
selves, but were driven into their tents by a drenching rain. 

Early in the morning General Mifflin arrived in camp, with part 
of the troops which had been stationed at Fort Washington and 
King's Bridge. He brought with him Shee's prime Philadelphia 
regiment, and Magaw's Pennsylvania regiment, both well 
disciphned and officered, and accustomed to act together. 
They were so much reduced in number, however, by sick- 
ness, that they did not amount in the whole to more than eight 
hundred men. With Miftlin came also Col. Glover's Massachu- 
setts regiment, composed chiefly of Marblehead fishermen, and 
sailors, hardy, adroit, and weather-proof ; trimly clad in blue jack- 
ets and trowsers. The detachment numbered, in the whole, 
about thirteen hundred men, all fresh and full of spirits. Every 
eye brightened as they marched briskly along the line with alert 
step and cheery aspect. They were posted at the left extremity of 
the intrenchments toward the Wallabout. 

On the 29th, there was a dense fog over the island, that wrapped 
everything in mystery. In the course of the morning, Gen. Mif- 
flin, with Adj. Gen. Reed, and Col. Grayson of Virginia, one of 
Washington's aides-de-camp, rode to the western outposts, in the 
neighborhood of Red Hook. While they were there, a light breeze 
lifted the fog from a part of the New York bay, and revealed the 
British ships at their anchorage opposite Staten Island. There 
appeared to be an unusual bustle among them. Boats were pas- 
sing to and from the admiral's ship, as if seeking or carrying 
orders. Some movement was apparently in agitation. The idea 
occurred to the reconnoitering party that the fleet was preparing, 
should the wind hold and the fog clear away, to come up the bay 
at the turn of the tide, silence the feeble batteries at Red 
Hook and the city, and anchor in the East River. In that case 
the army on Long Island would be completely surrounded and 
entrapped. Alarmed at this perilous probability, they spurred 
back to head-quarters, to urge the immediate withdrawal of the 
army. Washington instantly summoned a council of war. The 
difficulty was already apparent, of guarding such extensive works 
with troops fatigued and dispirited, and exposed to the inclemen- 
cies of the weather. Other dangers now presented themselves. 
Their communication with New York might be cut off by the fleet 
from below. Other ships had passed round Long Island, and were 
at Flushing Bay on the Sound. These might land troops on the 
east side of Harlem River, and make themselves masters of 
King's Bridge ; that key of Manhattan Island. Taking all these 
things into consideration, it was resolved to cross with the troops 
to the city that very night. Never did retreat require greater 
secrecy and circumspection. Nine thousand men, with all the 




THOMAS PAINE. 



1776.] RETREA T FROM LONG ISLAND. 251 

munitions of war, were to be withdrawn from before a victorious 
army, encamped so near, that every stroke of spade and pick- 
axe from their trenches could be heard. The retreating troops, 
moreover, were to be embarked and conveyed across a strait 
three quarters of a mile wide, swept by rapid tides. The least 
alarm of their movement would bring the enemy up)on them, and 
produce a terrible scene of confusion and carnage at the place 
of embarkation. Washington made the preparatory arrangements 
with great alertness, yet profound secrecy. Verbal orders were 
sent to Col. Hughes, who acted as quartermaster-general, to impress 
all water craft, large and small, from Spuyten Dnyvil on the Hud- 
son round to Hell Gate on the Sound, and have them on the east 
side of the city by evening. The order was issued at noon, and 
so promptly executed, that, although some of the vessels had to be 
brought a distance of fifteen miles, they were all at Brooklyn at 
eight o'clock in the evening, and put under the management of 
Col. Glover's amphibious Marblehead regiment. To prepare the 
army for a general movement without betraying the object, orders 
were issued for the troops to hold themselves in readiness for a 
night attack upon the enemy. The orders caused surprise, for the 
poor fellows were exhausted, and their arms rendered nearly use- 
less by the rain ; all, however, prepared to obey ; but several 
made nuncupative wills ; as is customary among soldiers on the 
eve of sudden and deadly peril. It was late in the evening when 
the troops began to retire from the breastworks. As one regiment 
quietly withdrew from their station on guard, the troops on the 
right and left moved up and filled the vacancy. There was a 
stifled murmur in the camp, unavoidable in a movement of the 
kind ; but it gradually died away in the direction of the river, 
as the main body moved on in silence and order. The youth- 
ful Hamilton, whose mihtary merits had won the favor of Gen. 
Greene, and who had lost his baggage and a field-piece in the 
battle, brought up the rear of the retreating party. In the dead 
of the night, and in the midst of this hushed and anxious move- 
ment, a cannon went off with a tremendous roar. "The effect," 
says an American who was present, "was at once alarming and 
sublime. If the explosion was within our lines, the gun was 
probably discharged in the act of spiking it, and could have 
been no less a matter of speculation to the enemy than to our- 
selves. What with the greatness of the stake, the darkness of the 
night, the uncertainty of the design, and the extreme hazard of the 
issue, it would be difficult to conceive a more deeply solemn and 
interesting scene." The meaning of this midnight gun was never 
ascertained ; fortunately, though it startled the Americans, it failed 
to rouse the British camp. In the mean time the embarkation 
went on with all possible dispatch, under the vigilanteye of Wash- 
ington, who stationed himself at the ferry, superintending every 
movement. By this time the tide had turned ; there was a strong 
wind from the northeast ; the boats with oars were insufficient to 
convey the troops ; those with sails could not make headway 
against wind and tide. There was some confusion at the ferry, 



252 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and in the midst of it, Gen. Mifflin came down with the whole 
covering party ; adding to the embarrassment and uproar. " Good 
God! General Mifflin!" cried Washington, "I am afraid you have 
ruined us by so unseasonably withdrawing the troops from the 
lines." "I did so by your order," replied Mifflin with some 
•warmth. "It cannot be !" exclaimed Washington. "Did Scam- 
mel act as aide-de-camp for the day, or did he not?" "He did." 
"Then," said Mifflin, "I had orders through him." "It is a 
dreadful mistake," rejoined Washington, "and unless the troops 
can regain the lines before their absence is discovered by the 
enemy, the most disastrous consequences are to be apprehended." 

Mifflin led back his men to the lines, which had been completely 
deserted for three-quarters of an hour. Fortunately, the dense 
fog had prevented the enemy from discovering that they were un- 
occupied. The men resumed their fonner posts, and remained at 
them until called off to cross the ferry. "Whoever has seen troops 
in a similar situation," Avrites Gen. Heath, "or duly contemplates 
the human heart in such trials, will know how to appreciate the 
conduct of these brave men on this occasion." 

The fog which prevailed all this time, seemed almost provident- 
ial. Wliile it hung over Long Island, and concealed the move- 
ments of the Americans, the atmosphere was clear on the New 
York side of the river. The adverse ^vind, too, died away, the 
I iver became so smooth that the row-boats could be laden almost 
to the gunwale ; and a favoring breeze sprang up for the sail-boats. 
The whole embarkation of troops, artillery, ammunition, provisions, 
cattle, horses and carts, was happily effected, and by daybreak the 
j^reater part had safely reached the city, thanks to the aid of 
Glover's Marblehead men. Scarce anything was abandoned to 
the enemy, excepting a few heavy pieces of artillery. At a proper 
time, Mifilin \vith his covering party left the lines, and effected a 
silent retreat to the ferry. Washington, though repeatedly 
entreated, refused to enter a boat until all the troops were em- 
barked ; and crossed the river -with the last. A Long Island 
tradition tells how the British camp became aware of the march 
which had been stolen upon it. Near the ferry resided a Mrs. 
Rapelye, whose husband, suspected of favoring the enemy, had 
been removed to the interior of New Jersey. On seeing the 
embarkation of the fust detachment, she, out of loyalty or revenge, 
sent off a black servant to inform the first British officer he could 
find, of what was going on. The negro succeeded in passing the 
American sentinels, but arrived at a Hessian outpost, where he 
could not make himself understood, and was put under guard as a 
suspicious person. There he was kept until daybreak, when an 
officer visiting the post, examined him, and was astounded by his 
story. An alarm was given, the troops were called to arms ; Capt. 
Montresor, aide-de-camp of Gen. Howe, followed by a handful of 
men, climbed cautiously over the crest of the works and found 
them deserted. Advanced parties were hurried down to the ferry. 
The fog had cleared away, sufficiently for them to see the rear 
boats of the retreating arni^ half way across the river. This ex- 



1776.] THE ARMY SA VED. 253 

traordinary retreat, which, in its silence and celerity, equaled the 
midnight fortifying of Bunker's Hill, was one of the most signal 
achievements of the war, and redounded greatly to the reputation 
of Washington, who, we are told, for forty-eight hours preceding 
the safe extricating of his army from their perilous situation, scarce 
closed his eyes, and was the greater part of the time on horseback. 
Many, however, who considered the variety of risks and dangers 
which surrounded the camp, and the apparently fortuitous circum- 
stances which averted them all, were disposed to attribute the safe 
retreat of the patriot army to a peculiar Providence. 

The enemy had now possession of Long Island. British and 
Hessian troops garrisoned the works at Brooklyn, or were dis- 
tributed at Bushwick, Newton, Hell Gate and Flushing. Admiral 
Howe came up with the main body of the fleet, and anchored close 
to Governor's Island, within cannon shot of the city. On the night 
of Monday (Sept. 2d), a forty-gun ship, taking advantage of a 
favorable wind and tide, passed between Governor's Island and 
Long Island, swept unharmed by the batteries which opened upon 
her, and anchored in Turtle Bay, above the city. In the morning 
Washington dispatched Major Crane of the artillery, Avith two 
twelve-pounders and a howitzer to annoy her from the New York 
shore. They hulled her several times, and obliged her to take 
shelter behind Blackwell's Island. Several other ships-of-war, 
with transports and store-ships, had made their appearance in the 
upper part of the Sound, having gone round Long Island. As the 
city might speedily be attacked, Washington caused all the sick 
and wounded to be conveyed to Orangetown, in the Jerseys, and 
such military stores and baggage as were not immediately needed, 
to be removed, as fast as conveyances could be procured, to a post 
partially fortified at Dobbs Ferry, on the eastern bank of the 
Hudson, about twenty-two miles above the city. 

The British, in the mean time, forbore to press further hostilities. 
Lord Howe was really desirous of a peaceful adjustment of the 
strife between the colonies and the mother country,- and supposed 
this a propitious moment for a new attempt at jDacification. He 
accordingly sent off Gen. Sulhvan on parole, charged with an 
overture to Congress. In this he declared himself empowered and 
disposed to compromise the dispute between Great Britain and 
America on the most favorable terms, and, though he could not 
treat with Congress as a legally organized body, he was desirous 
of a conference with some of its members. These, for the time, he 
should consider only as private gentlemen, but if in the conference 
any probable scheme of accommodation should be agreed upon, 
the atithority of Congress would afterward be acknowledged, to 
render the compact complete. After much debate, Congress, on 
the 5th September, replied, that being the representatives of the 
free and independent States of America, they could not send any 
members to confer with his lordship in their private characters, but 
that, ever desirous of establishing peace on reasonable terms, they 
would send a committee of their body to ascertain what authority 
he had to treat with persons authorized by Congress, and what 



254 LJFE OF WASHINGTON. 

piopositious he had to offer. A committee was chosen on the 6th 
of September, composed of John Adams, Edward Rutledge, and 
Doctor Franklin. The latter, in the preceding year, during his 
residence in England, had become acquainted with Lord Howe, at 
the house of his lordship's sister, the honorable Mrs. Howe, and 
they held frequent conversations on the subject of American affairs, 
in the course of which, his lordship had intimated the possibihty 
of his. being sent commissioner to setde the difference in America. 
Franklin had recently adverted to this in a letter to Lord Howe. 
" Your lordship may possibly remember the tears of joy that wet 
my cheek, when, at your good sister's in Loudon, you gave me ex- 
pectations that a reconciliation might soon take place. I had the 
misfortune to find those expectaUons disappointed." 

The proposed conference was to take place on the llth, at a 
house on Staten Island, opposite to Amboy ; at which latter place 
the veteran Mercer was stationed with his flying camp. At Am- 
boy, the committee found Lord Howe's barge waiung to receive 
them. The admiral met them on their landing, and conducted 
them through his guards to his house. On opening the confer- 
ence, his lordship again intimated that he could not treat with 
them as a committee of Congress, but only confer with them as 
private gentlemen of influence in the colonies, on the means of 
restoring peace between the two countries. The commissioners 
replied that, as their business was to hear, he might consider them 
in what light he pleased ; but that they should consider themselves 
in no other character than that in which they were placed by order 
of Congress. Lord Howe then entered into a discourse of consid- 
erable length, but made no explicit proposition of peace, nor prom- 
ise of redress of grievances, excepting on condition that the coh 
onies should return to their allegiance. This, the commissioners 
replied, was not now to be expected. Their repeated humble peti- 
tions to the king and parliament having been treated with con- 
tempt, and answered by additional injuries, and war having been 
declared against them, the colonies had declared their indepen- 
dence, and it was not in the power of Congress to agree for them 
that they should return to their former dependent state. His lord- 
ship expressed his sorrow that no accommodation was likely to 
take place ; and, on breaking up the conference, assured his old 
friend, Dr. Franklin, that he should suffer great pain in being 
obliged to distress those for whom he had so much regard. " I 
feel thankful to your lordship for your regard," replied Franklin 
good-humoredly; " the Americans, on their part, will endeavor to 
lessen the pain you may feel, by taking good care of themselves.* 

Since the retreat from Brooklyn, Washington had narrowly, 
watched the movements of the enemy to discover their further 
pkins. Their whole force, excepting about four thousand men, 
had been transferred from Staten to Long Island. A great 
part was encamped on the peninsula between Newtown Inlet and 
Flushing Bay. A battery had been thrown up near the extremity 
of the peninsula, to check an American battery at Horen's Hook 
opposite, and to command the mouth of Harlem River. Troops 



1776.] ABANDONING THE CITY. 255 

were subsequently stationed on the islands about Hell Gate. " It 
is evident," writes Washington, "the enemy mean to inclose us 
on the island of New York, by taking post in our rear, while the 
shipping secures the front, and thus, by cutting off our communi- 
cation with the country, oblige us to fight them on their own terms, 
or surrender at discretion ; or by a brilliant stroke endeavor to cut 
this army in pieces, and secure the collection of arms and stores, 
which, they well know, we shall not be able soon to replace." 
In a council of war, held on the 7th of September, the question 
was discussed, whether the city should be defended or evacuated. 
All admitted that it would not be tenable, should it be cannonaded 
and bombarded. By removing, they would deprive the enemy of 
the advantage of their ships ; they would keep the«i at bay ; put 
nothing at hazard ; keep the army together to be recruited another 
year, and preserve the unspent stores and the heavy artillery. 
Washington himself inclined to this opinion. Gen. Greene, in a 
letter to Washington, dated Sept. 5th, advised that the army 
should abandon both city and island, and post itself at King's 
Bridge and along the Westchester shore. That there was no 
object to be obtained by holding any position below King's Bridge. 
The city and island, he observed, were objects not to be put in 
competition with the general interests of America. Two-thirds 
of the city and suburbs belonged to tories, there was no great 
reason, therefore, to run any considerable risk in its defence. The 
honor and interest of America required a general and speedy re- 
treat. But as the enemy, once in possession, could never be dis- 
lodged without a superior naval force ; as the place would furnish 
them with excellent winter quarters and barrack room, and an 
abundant market, he advised to burn both city and suburbs before 
retreating. Well might the poor, harassed citizens feel hyster- 
ical, threatened as they were by sea and land, and their very 
defenders debating the policy of burning their houses over their 
heads. Fortunately for them. Congress had expressly forbidden 
that any harm should be done to New York, trusting, that though 
the enemy might occupy it for a time, it would ultimately be 
regained. After much discussion a middle course was adopted, 
Putnam, with five thousand men, was to be stationed in the city. 
Heath, with nine thousand, was to keep guard on the upper 
part of the island, and oppose any attempt of the enemy to land. 
The third division, composed principally of militia, was under the 
command of Generals Greene and Spencer, the former of 
whom, however, was still unwell. It was stationed about the cen- 
ter of the island, chiefly along Turtle Bay and Kip's Bay, where 
strong works had been thrown up, to guard against any landing of 
troops from the ships or from the encampments on Long Island. 
It was also to hold itself ready to support either of the other divis- 
ions. W^ashington himself had his headquarters at a short dis- 
tance from the city. A resolution of Congress, passed the loth of 
September, left the occupation or abandonment of the city entirely 
at Washington's discretion. Convinced of the propriety of evacu- 
ation, Washington prepared for it by ordering the removal of all 



256 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

stores, excepting such as were indispensable for the subsistence of 
the troops while they remained. About sunset of the 14th of Sep- 
tember, six ship3, two of them men-of-war, passed up the Sound 
and joined those above. Within half an hour came expresses 
spurring to headquarters, one from Mifflin at King's Bridge, the 
other from Col. Sargent at Horen's Hook. Three or four thousand 
of the enemy were crossing at Hell Gate to the islands at the 
mouth of Harlem River, where numbers were already encamped. 
An immediate landing at Harlem, or Morrisania, was appre- 
hended. Washington was instantly in the saddle, spurring to 
Harlem Heights. The night, however, passed away quietly. In 
the morning the enemy commenced operations. Three ships of 
war stood up the Hudson, "causing a most tremendous firing, 
assisted by the cannons of Governor's Island, which firing was 
returned from the city as well as the scarcity of heavy cannon 
would allow." The ships anchored opposite Bloomingdale, a few 
miles above the city, and put a stop to the removal by water of 
stores and provisions to Dobbs' Ferry. About eleven o'clock, the 
ships in the East River commenced a heavy cannonade upon the 
breastworks between Turtle Bay and the city. At the same time 
two divisions of the troops encamped on Long Island, one British, 
under Sir Henry Clinton, the other Hessian, under Col. Donop, 
emerged in boats from the deep, woody recesses of Newton Inlet, 
and under cover of the fire from the ships, began to land at two 
points between Turtle and Kip's Bays. The breastworks were 
manned by militia who had recently served at Brooklyn. Dis- 
heartened by their late defeat, they fled at the first advance of the 
enemy. Two brigades of Putnam's Connecticut troops {Parsons' 
and Fellows') which had been sent that morning to support them, 
caught the panic, and regardless of the commands and entreaties 
of their officers, joined in the general scamper. At this moment 
Washington, who had mounted his horse at the first sound of the 
cannonade, came galloping to the scene of confusion ; riding in 
among the fugitives, he endeavored to rally and restore them to 
order. All in vain. At the first appearance of sixty or seventy 
red coats, they broke again without firing a shot, and fled in head- 
long terror. Losing all self-command at the sight of such das- 
tardly conduct, he dashed his hat upon the ground in a transport 
of rage. "Are these the men," exclaimed he, "with whom I am 
to defend America!" In a paroxysm of passion and despair he 
snapped his pistols at some of them, threatened others with his 
sword, and was so heedless of his own danger, that he might have 
fallen into the hands of the enemy, who were not eighty yards 
distant, had not an aide-de-camp seized the bridle of his horse, 
and absolutely hurried him away. It was one of the rare moments 
of his life, when the vehement element of his nature was stirred 
up from its deep recesses. He soon recovered his self-possession, 
and took measures against the general peril. The enemy might 
land another force about Hell Gate, seize upon Harlem Heights, 
the strong central portion of the island, cut off all retreat of the 
lower divisions, and effectually sever his army. In all haste, there- 



1776.] THE BRITISH ADVANCE. 257 

fore, he sent off an express to the forces encamped above, direct- 
ing them to secure that position immediately ; while another 
express to Putnam, ordered an immediate retreat from the city to 
those heights. Putnam called in his pickets and guards, and 
abandoned the city in all haste, leaving behind him a large quan- 
tity of provisions and military stores, and most of the heavy 
cannon. To avoid the enemy he took the Bloomingdale road, 
though this exposed him to be raked by the ships anchored in the 
Hudson. It was a forced march, on a sultry day, under a burning 
sun and amid clouds of dust. His army was encumbered with 
women and children and all kinds of baggage. Many were over- 
come by fatigue and thirst, some perished by hastily drinking cold 
water; but Putnam rode backward and forward, hurrying every 
one on. Col, Humphreys, at that time a volunteer in his division, 
writes: " I had frequent opportunities that day of beholding him, 
for the purpose of issuing orders and encouraging the troops, flying 
on his horse covered with foam, wherever his presence was most 
necessary. Without his extraordinary exertions, the guards must 
have been inevitably lost, and it is probable the entire corps would 
have been cut in pieces. When we were not far from Blooming- 
dale, an aide-de-camp came to him at full speed, to inform him 
that a column of British infantry was descending upon our right. 
Our rear was soon fired upon, and the colonel of our regiment, 
whose order was just communicated for the front to file off to the 
left, was killed upon the spot. With no other loss, we joined the 
army after dark upon the heights of Harlem." Tradition gives a 
circumstance which favored Putnam's retreat. The British gen- 
erals, in passing by Murray Hill, the country residence of a 
patriot of that name who was of the Society of Friends, made a 
halt to seek some refreshments. The proprietor of the house was 
absent ; but his wife set cake and wine before them in abundance. 
So grateful were these refreshments in the heat of the day, that 
they lingered over their wine, quaffing and laughing, and banter- 
ing their patriotic hostess about the ludicrous panic and discom- 
fiture of her countrymen. In the mean time, before they were 
roused from their regale, Putnam and his forces had nearly passed 
by, within a mile of them. All the loss sustained by him in his 
perilous retreat, was fifteen killed, and about three hundred taken 
prisoners. It became, adds the tradition, a common saying among 
the American officers, that Mrs. Murray saved Putnam's division 
of the army. 

The fortified camp, where the main body of the army was now 
assembled, was upon that neck of land several miles long, and for 
the most part not above a mile wide, which forms the upper part 
of Manhattan or New York Island. It forms a chain of rocky- 
heights, and is separated from the mainland by Harlem River, a 
narrow strait, extending from Hell Gate on the Sound, to Spuyten 
Duyvil, a creek or inlet of the Hudson, Fort Washington occu- 
pied the crest of one of the rocky heights above mentioned, over- 
looking the Hudson, and about two miles north of it was King's 
Bridge, crossing Spuyten Duyvil Creek, and fonning at that time 



258 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the only pass from Manhattan Island to the mainland. About a 
mile and a half south of the fort, a double row of hnes extended 
across the neck from Harlem River to the Hudson. They faced 
south toward New York, were about a quarter of a mile apart, and 
were defended by batteries. There were strong advanced posts, 
about two miles south of the outer line ; one on the left of Harlem, 
commanded by Gen. Spencer, the other on the right, at what was 
called McGowan's Pass, commanded by General Putnam. About 
a mile and a half beyond these posts the British lines extended 
across the island from Horen's Hook to the Hudson, being a con- 
tinuous encampment, two miles in length, with both flanks covered 
by shipping. An open plain intervened between the hostile camps. 
Washington had established his headquarter about a quartes of a 
mile within the inner line ; at a country-seat, the owners of which 
were absent. It belonged in fact to Col. Roger Morris, his early 
companion in arms in Braddock's campaign, and his successful 
competitor for the hand of Miss Mary Philipse. Morris had 
remained in America, enjoying the wealth he had acquired by his 
marriage ; but had adhered to the royal party, and was a member 
of the council of the colony. It is said that at this time he was 
residing in the Highlands at Beverly, the seat of his brother-in- 
law, Washington's old friend, Beverly Robinson. While thus 
posted, Washington was incessantly occupied in fortifying the 
approaches to his camp by redoubts, abatis, and deep intrench- 
ments, "Here," said he, "I should hope the enemy, in case of 
attack, would meet a defeat, if the generality of our troops would 
behave with tolerable bravery; I trust there are many who will 
act like men worthy of the blessings of freedom." In the course 
of his rounds of inspection, he was struck with the skill and 
science displayed in the construction of some of the works, which 
were thrown up under the direction of a youthful captain of artil- 
lery. It proved to be the same young officer, Alexander Hamil- 
ton, whom Greene had recommended to his notice. After some 
conversation with him, Washington invited him to his marquee, 
and thus commenced that intercourse which has indissolubly 
linked their memories together. 

On the morning of the i6th, word was brought to headquarters 
that the enemy were advancing in three large columns. There 
had been so many false reports, that Reed, the adjutant-general, 
obtained leave to sally out and ascertain the truth. Washington 
himself soon mounted his horse and rode toward the advanced 
posts. On arriving there he heard a brisk firing. It was kept up 
for a time with great spirit. There was evidently a sharp conflict. 
At length Reed came galloping back with information. A strong 
detachment of the enemy had attacked the most advanced post, 
which was situated on a hill skirted by a wood. It had been 
bravely defended by Lieut.-Col. Knowlton, Putnam's favorite 
officer, who had distinguished himself at Bunker's Hill; he had 
under him a party of Connecticut rangers, volunteers from different 
regiments. After skirmishing for a time, the party had been over- 
powered by numbers and driven in, and the outpost was taken 



1776.] A SUCCESSFUL SKIRMISH. 259 

possession of by the enemy. Washington ordered out three com- 
panies from Colonel Weedon's regiment just arrived from Virginia, 
and sent them under Major Leitch, to join Knowlton's rangers. 
The troops thus united were to get in the rear of the enemy, while 
a feigned attack was made upon them in front. As the force 
advanced to make the false attack, the enemy ran down the hill, 
and took what they considered an advantageous position behind 
son-ie fences and bushes which skirted it. A firing commenced 
between them and the advancing party, but at too great distance 
to do much harm on either side. In the mean time, Knowlton and 
Leitch, ignorant of this change in the enemy's position, having 
made a circuit, came upon them in flank instead of in rear. They 
were sharply received. A vivid contest took place, in which Con- 
necticut vied with Virginia in bravery. In a little while Major 
Leitch received three bullets in his side, and was borne off the 
field. Shortly afterward, a wound in the head from a musket ball 
brought Knowlton to the ground. Col. Reed placed him on his 
horse, and conveyed him to a distant redoubt. The men, undis- 
mayed by the fall of their leaders, fought with unflinching resolu- 
tion under the command of their captains. The enemy were 
reinforced by a battalion of Hessians and a company of chasseurs. 
Washington likewise sent reinforcements of New England and 
Maryland troops. The action waxed hotter and hotter; the enemy 
were driven from the wood into the plain, and pushed for some 
distance ; the Americans were pursuing them with ardor, when 
Washington, having effected the object of this casual encounter, 
and being unwilhng to risk a general action, ordered a retreat to 
be sounded. His men retired in good order; and, as it subse- 
quently appeared, in good season, for the main body of the enemy 
were advancing at a rapid rate, and might have effectually 
reversed the scene. Col, Knowlton did not long survive the 
action. "When gasping in the agonies of death," says Col. 
Reed, " all his inquiry was whether he had driven in the enemy." 
He was anxious for the tarnished honor of Connecticut. He 
had the dytng satisfaction of knowing that his men had behaved 
bravely, and driven the enemy in an open field-fight. So closed 
his gallant career. 

The encounter thus detailed was the first gleam of success in the 
campaign, and revived the spirits of the army. Washington 
sought to turn it to the greatest advantage. In his general orders, 
he skilfully distributed praise and censure. The troops under 
Leitch were thanked for being the first to advance upon the 
enemy ; and the New England troops for gallantly supporting 
them. Of Knowlton, who had fallen while gloriously fighting, he 
spoke as " one who would have done honor to any country." The 
name of Leitch was given by him for the next day's parole. That 
brave officer died of his wounds on the 1st of October, soothed in 
his last moments by that recompense so dear to a soldier's heart, 
the encomium of a beloved commander. 

In the dead of the night, on the 20th Sept., a great light was 
beheld by the picket guards, looming up from behind the hills in 



26o LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the direction of the city. It continued throughout the night, and 
was at times so strong that the heavens in that direction appeared 
to them, they said, as if in flames. At daybreak huge columns of 
smoke were still rising. It was evident there had been a great 
conflagration in New York. In the course of the morning Capt. 
Montresor, aide-de-camp to Gen. Howe, came out with a flag, 
bearing a letter to Washington on the subject of an exchange of 
prisoners. According to Montresor's account a great part of the 
city had been burned down, and as the night was extremely 
windy, the whole might have been so, but for the exertions of the 
officers and men of the British army. 

The enemy were now bringing up their heavy cannon, prepara- 
tory to an attack upon the American camp by the troops and by 
the ships. What was the state of Washington's army ? The terms 
of engagement of many of his men would soon be at an end, most 
of them would terminate with the year, nor did Congress hold out 
offers to encourage reenlistments. " We are now, as it were, upon 
the eve of another dissolution of the army," writes he, "and unless 
some speedy and effectual measures are adopted by Congress, our 
cause will be lost." Under these gloomy apprehensions, he bor- 
rowed, as he said, "a few moments from the hours allotted to 
sleep," and on the night of the 24th of September, penned an 
admirable letter to the President of Congress, setting forth the 
total inefficiency of the existing military system, the total insubor- 
dination, waste, confusion, and discontent produced by it among 
the men, and the harassing cares and vexations to which it sub- 
jected the commanders. Nor did he content himself with com- 
plaining, but, in his full, clear, and sagacious manner, pointed out 
the remedies. To the achievements of his indefatigable pen, we 
may trace the most fortunate turns in the current of our revolu- 
tionary affairs. In the present instance his representations, illus- 
trated by sad experience, produced at length a reorganization of 
the army, and the establishment of it on a permanent footing. It 
was decreed that eighty-eight battalions should be furnished in 
quotas, by the different States, according to their abilities. The 
pay of the officers was raised. The troops which engaged to 
serve throughout the war were to receive a bounty of twenty dol- 
lars and one hundred acres of land, besides a yearly suit of 
clothes while in service. Those who enlisted for but three years, 
received no bounty in land. 

Washington was gratified, by effecting, after a long correspon- 
dence with the British commander, an exchange of prisoners, in 
which those captured in Canada were included. Among those 
restored to the service were Lord Stirling and Captain Daniel 
Morgan. The latter, in reward of his good conduct m the expedi- 
tion with Arnold, and of "his intrepid behavior in the assault upon 
Quebec where the brave Montgomery fell," was recommended to 
Congress by Washington for the command of a rifle regiment 
about to be raised. 

Nothing perplexed Washington at this juncture more than the 
conduct of the enemy. He beheld before him a hostile army, 




BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 



1776.] THE BRITISH ON THE HUDSON. 261 

armed and equipped at all points, superior in numbers, thoroughly 
disciplined, flushed with success, and abounding in the means of 
pushing a vigorous campaign, yet suffering day after day to elapse 
unimproved. In this uncertainty, he wrote to General Mercer, of 
the flying camp, to keep a vigilant watch from the Jersey shore on 
the movements of the enemy, by sea and land, and to station 
vedettes on the Neversink Heights, to give immediate intelligence 
should any of the British fleet put to sea. At the same time he 
himself practiced unceasing vigilance, visiting the difterent parts 
of his camp on horseback. Occasionally he crossed over to Fort 
Constitution, on the Jersey shore, of which Major-Gen. Greene had 
charge, and, accompanied by him, extended his reconnoiterings 
down to Paulus Hook, to observe what was going on in the city 
and among the enemy's ships. 

The security of the Hudson was at this time an object of great 
solicitude with Congress, and much reliance was placed on Put- 
nam's obstructions at Fort Washington. Four galleys, mounted 
with heavy guns and swivels, were stationed at the chevaux-de- 
frise, and two new ships were at hand, which, filled with stones, 
were to be sunk where they would block up the channel. The 
obstructions were so commanded by batteries on each shore, that 
it was thought no hostile ship would be able to pass. On the 9th 
of October, however, the Roebuck and Phoenix, each of forty-four 
guns, and the Tartar, of twenty guns, which had been lying for 
some time opposite Bloomingdale, broke through the vaunted bar- 
riers as through a cobweb. Seven batteries kept up a constant fire 
upon them, yet a gentleman was observed walking the deck of the 
second ship as coolly as if nothing were the matter. The hostile 
ships kept on their course, the American vessels scudding before 
them. The two new ships drove ashore at Philips' Mills at Yonk- 
ers. Two of the galleys got into a place of safety, where they 
were protected from the shore ; the other two trusted to outsail 
their pursuers. The breeze freshened, and the frigates gained on 
them fast ; at 1 1 o'clock began to fire on them with their bow- 
chasers, and at 12 o'clock overreached them, which caused them 
to bear inshore ; at half-past one the galleys ran aground just 
above Dobbs' Ferry, and lay exposed to a shower of grape-shot. 
The crews, without stopping to burn or bilge them, swam on shore, 
and the enemy took possession of the two galleys, which were 
likely to be formidable means of annoyance in their hands. Wash- 
ington sent off a party of rifle and artillery men, with two twelve- 
pounders, to secure the new ships which had run aground at Yon- 
kers, and ordered Col. Sargent to march up along the eastern 
shore with five hundred infantry, a troop of light-horse, and a 
detachment of artillery, to prevent the landing of the enemy. He 
also gave orders to complete the obstructions. Two hulks which 
lay in Spuyten Duyvil Creek were hastily ballasted by men from 
General Heath's division, and men were sent up to get off the ships 
which had run aground at Philips' Mills, that they might be 
brought down and sunk immediately. Brig. Gen. James Clinton, 
(promoted by Congress, on the 8th of August), was charged to 



262 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

have all boats passing up and down the river rigidly searched, and 
the passengers examined. A barge, was to patrol the river oppo- 
site to each fort every night; all barges, row-boats, and other small 
craft, between the forts in the Highlands and the army, were to be 
secured in a place of safety, to prevent their falling into the enemy's 
hand and giving intelligence. A French engineer was sent up to 
aid in strengthening and securing the passes. October I Ith a small 
vessel, sloop-rigged, with a topsail, was descried from Mount 
Washington, coming down the river with a fresh breeze. It was 
suspected by those on the look-out to be one of the British tenders, 
and they gave it a shot from a twelve-pounder. Their aim was 
unfortunately too true. Three of the crew were killed and the cap- 
tain wounded. It proved to be Washington's yacht, which had 
run up the river previously to the enemy's ships, and was now on 
its return. 

Washington received intelligence by express from General 
Heath, stationed above King's Bridge, that the enemy were land- 
ing with artillery on Throg's Neck in the Sound, about nine miles 
from the camp. He surmised that Howe was pursuing his orig- 
inal plan of getting into the rear of the American army, cutting ofif 
its supplies, which were chiefly derived from the East, and inter- 
rupting itscommunication with the main country. He mounted his 
horse, and rode over toward Throg's Neck, a peninsula in West- 
chester County, stretching upward of two miles into the Sound. It 
was separated from the mainland by a narrow creek and a marsh, 
and was surrounded by water every high tide. A bridge across a 
creek connecting with a ruined causeway across the marsh, led to 
the mainland, and the upper end of the creek w-as fordable at low 
water. Early in the morning, eighty or ninety boats full of men 
had stood up the Sound from Montresor's Island, and 
Long Island, and had landed troops to the number of 
four thousand on Throg's Point, the extremity of the neck. 
Thence their advance pushed forward toward the cause- 
way and bridge, to secure that pass to the mainland. Gen. 
Heath had been too rapid for them. Col. Hand and his 
Philadelphia riflemen, the same who had checked the British 
advance on Long Island, had taken up the planks of the bridge, 
and posted themselves opposite the end of the causeway, whence 
they commenced firing with their rifles. They were soon rein- 
forced by Col. Prescott, of Bunkers Hill renown, with his regi- 
ment, and Lieut. Bryant of the artillery, with a three-pounder. 
Checked at this pass, the British moved toward the head of the 
creek; here they found the Americans in possession of the ford, 
where they were reinforced by Col. Graham, of the New Yorkhne, 
with his regiment, and Lieut. Jackson of the artillery, with a six- 
pounder. These skilful dispositions of his troops by Gen. Heath had 
brought the enemy to a stand. Washington ordered works to be 
thrown up at the passes from the neck to the mainland. The 
British also threw up a work at 'the end of the causeway. In the 
afternoon nine ships, with a great number of schooners, sloops, and 
fiat-bottomed boats full of men, passed through Hell Gate, toward 



1776.] MOVEMENTS OF, THE ARMIES. 263 

Throg's Point ; and information received from two deserters, gave 
Washington reason to believe that the greater part of the enemy's 
forces were gathering in that quarter. Gen. McDougall's brigade, 
in which were Col. Smallwood and the independent companies, 
was sent in the evening to strengthen Heath's division at King's 
Bridge, and to throw up works opposite the ford of Harlem river. 
On the 14th, Gen. Lee arrived in camp, where he was welcomed 
as the harbinger of good luck. Washington was absent, visiting the 
posts beyond King's Bridge, and the passes leading from Throg's 
Neck ; Lee immediately rode forth to join him. No one gave him 
a sincerer greeting than the commander-in-chief; who, diffident of 
his own military knowledge, had a high opinion of that of Lee. He 
immediately gave him command of the troops above King's Bridge, 
now the greatest part of the army, but desired that he would not 
exercise it for a day or two, until he had time to acquaint himself 
with the localities and arrangements of the post ; Heath, in the 
interim, held the command. A strong garrison was placed in 
Fort Washington, composed chiefly of troops from Magaw's and 
Shee's Pennsylvania regiments, the latter under Lieut. Col. Lam- 
bert Cadwalader, of Philadelphia. Col. Magaw was put in com- 
Kiand of the post, and solemnly charged by Washington to defend 
k to the last extremity. The name of the opposite post on the 
Jersey shore, where Greene was stationed, was changed from Fort 
Constitution to Fort Lee, in honor of the General. 

Previous to decamping from Manhattan Island, Washington 
formed four divisions of the army, which were respectively assigned 
to Generals Lee, Heath, Sullivan (recently obtained in exchange 
for General Prescott), and Lincoln. Lee was stationed o\\ Valen- 
tine's Hill on the mainland, immediately opposite King's Bridge, to 
cover the transportation across it of the military stores and heavy 
baggage. The other divisions were to form a chain of fbrtified 
posts, extending about thirteen miles along a ridge of hills on thg 
west side of the Bronx, from Lee's camp up to the village o\ 
White Plains. Washington was continually in the saddle, riding 
about a broken, woody, and half wild country, forming posts, and 
choosing sites for breastworks and redoubts. By his skilful dis* 
position of the army, it was protected in its whole length by 
the Bronx, a narrow, but deep stream, fringed with trees, which 
ran along the foot of the ridge ; at the same time his troops faced 
and outflanked the enemy, and covered the roads along which the 
stores and baggage had to be transported. On the 21st, he shifted 
his head-quarters to Valentine's Hill, and on the 23d to Wliite 
Plains, where he stationed himself in a fortified camp. While he 
was thus incessantly in action, General, now Sir William Howe, 
remained for six days passive in his camp on Throg's Point, await- 
ing the arrival of supplies and reinforcements, instead of pushing 
across to the Hudson, and throwing himself between Washington's 
army and the upper country. His inaction lost him a golden 
opportunity. By the time his supplies arrived, the Americans had 
broken up the causeway leading to the mainland, and taken posi- 
tions too strong to be easily forced. Finding himself headed in 



264 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

this direction, Sir William reembarked part of his troops in flat 
boats on the 1 8th, crossed Eastchester Bay, and landed on Pell's 
Point, at the mouth of Hutchinson's River. Here he was joined 
in a few hours by the main body, with the baggage and artillery, 
and proceeded through the manor of Pelham toward New Rochelle; 
still with a view to get above Washington's army. In their march, 
the British were waylaid and harassed by Col. Glover of Massa- 
chusetts, with his own, Reed's, and Shepard's regiments of 
infantry. Twice the British advance guard were thrown into con- 
fusion and driven back with severe loss, by a sharp fire from 
behind stone fences. A third time they advanced in solid 
columns. The Americans gave them repeated volleys, and 
then retreated with the loss of eight killed and thirteen 
wounded, among whom was Col. Shepard. Col. Glover, and the 
officers and soldiers who were with him in this skirmish, received 
the public thanks of Washington for their merit and good behav- 
ior. On the 21 St, Gen. Howe was encamped about two miles 
north of New Rochelle, with his outposts extending to Mamaroneck 
on the Sound. At the latter place was posted Col. Rogers, the 
renegade, as he was called, with the Queen's Rangers, his newly- 
raised corps of loyalists. Hearing of this. Lord Stirling resolved, 
if possible, to cut off this outpost and entrap the old hunter. Col. 
Haslet, of his brigade, always prompt on such occasions, under- 
took the exploit at the head of seven hundred and fifty of the 
Delaware troops, who had fought so bravely on Long Island. 
With these he crossed the line of the British march ; came undis- 
covered upon the post ; drove in the guard ; killed a lieutenant 
and several men, and brought aw^ay thirty-six prisoners, with a 
pair of colors, sixty stands of arms, and other spoils. He missed 
the main prize, however. Rogers skulked off in the dark at the 
first fire. He w^as too old a partisan to be easily entrapped. These, 
and other spirited and successful skirmishes, while they retarded 
the advance of the enemy, had the far more important effect 
of exercising and animating the American troops, and accustoming 
them to danger. 

W'hile in this neighborhood, Howe was reinforced by a second 
division of Hessians under General Knyphausen, and a regiment 
of Waldeckers, both of which had recently arrived in New York. 
He was joined, also, by the whole of the seventeenth light dragoons, 
and a part of the sixteenth, which had arrived on the 3d instant 
from Ireland, with Lieut. Col. (afterward Earl) Harcourt. Some of 
their horses had been brought with them across the sea. The 
Americans at first regarded these troopers with great dread. 
Washington, therefore, took pains to convince them, that in a 
rough, broken country, like the present, full of stone fences, no 
troops were so inefficient as cavalry. They could be waylaid and 
picked off by sharp-shooters from behind walls and thickets, while 
they could not leave the road to pursue their covert foe. Further 
to inspirit them against this new enemy, he proclaimed, in general 
orders, a reward of one hundred dollars for every trooper brought 
in with his horse and accoutrements. On the 25th, about two 



1776.] THE BRITISH A T WHITE PLAINS, 265 

o'clock in the afternoon, intelligence was brought to headquarters 
t lat three or four detachments of the enemy were within four 
miles of the camp and the main army following in columns. Wash- 
ington drew all his troops from the posts along the Bronx into the 
fortified camp at White Plains. Here everything remained quiet 
but exf)ectant, throughout the 26th. In the morning of the 27th, 
which was Sunday, the heavy booming of cannon was heard from 
the direction of Fort Washington. Two of the British frigates, at 
seven o'clock in the morning, had moved up the Hudson, and 
come to anchor near Bourdett's Ferry, below the Morris House, 
Washington's old headquarters, apparently with the intention of 
stopping the ferry, and cutting off the communication between 
Fort Lee and Fort Washington. At the same time, troops made 
their appearance on Harlem Plains, where Lord Percy held com- 
mand. Col. Morgan immediately manned the lines with troops 
from the garrison of Fort Washington. The ships opened a fire 
to enfilade and dislodge them. A barbette battery on the cliffs 
of the Jersey shore, left of the ferry, fired down upon the frigate, but 
with little effect. An eighteen- pounder near the Morris House 
fired fifty or sixty rounds, two balls at a time. Two eighteen- 
pounders were likewise brought down from Fort Lee, and planted 
opposite the ships. By the fire from both shores they were hulled 
repeatedly. It was the thundering of these cannonades which had 
reached Washington's camp at White Plains, and even startled the 
Highlands of the Hudson. The ships soon hoisted all sail. The 
foremost slipped her cable, and appeared to be in the greatest 
confusion. She could make no way, though towed by two boats. 
The other ship, seeing her distress, sent two barges to her assist- 
ance, and by the four boats she was dragged out of the reach of 
the American fire, her pumps going all the time. At the time 
that the fire from the ships began. Lord Percy brought up his field- 
pieces and mortars, and made an attack upon the lines. He was 
resolutely answered by the troops sent down from Fort Washing- 
ington, and several Hessians Avere killed. An occasional firing 
was kept up until evening, when the ships fell down the river, and 
the troops which had advanced on Harlem Plains drew within 
their lines again. The celebrated Thomas Paine, autdor of " The 
Rights of Man," and other political works, was a spectator of the 
affair from the rocky summit of the Palisades, on the Jersey shore. 

While these things were passing at Fort Washington, Lee 
had struck his tents, and with the rear division, eight thousand 
strong, the baggage and artillery, and a train of wagons four 
miles long, laden with stores and ammunition, was lumbering 
along the rough country roads to join the main army. It was not 
until Monday morning, after being on the road all night, that he 
arrived at White Plains. 

Washington's camp was situated on high ground, facing the 
east. The right wing stretched toward the south along a rocky 
hill, at the foot of which the Bronx, making an elbow, protected it 
in flank and rear. The left wing rested on a small, deep lake 
among the hills. The camp was strongly intrenched in front. 



266 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

About a quarter of a mile to the right of the camp, and separated 
from the height on which it stood by the Bronx and a marshy 
interval, was a corresponding height called Chatterton's Hill, 
As this partly commanded the right flank, and as the intervening 
bend of the Bronx was easil/ passible, Washington had stationed 
on its summit a militia regiment. Apprehensive that the enemy 
might attempt to get possession of Chatterton's Hill, he detached 
Col. Haslet with his Delaware regiment, to reinforce the militia 
posted there. To these he soon added Gen. McDougall's 
brigade, composed of Smallwood's IMarylanders, Ritzema's New 
Yorkers, and two other regiments. These were much reduced by 
sickness and absence. Gen. McDougall had command of the 
whole force upon the hill, which did not exceed i,6oo men. 
These dispositions were scarcely made, when the enemy appeared 
glistening on the high grounds beyond the village of White Plains. 
They advanced in two columns, the right commanded by Sir 
Henry Clinton, the left by the Hessian general, De Heister. There 
was also a troop of horse; so formidable in the inexperienced eyes 
of the Americans. For a time they halted in a wheat field, behind 
a rising ground, and the general officers rode up in the center to 
hold a consultation. Washington supposed they were preparing 
to attack him in front, and such indeed was their intention; but the 
commanding height of Chatterton's Hill had caught Sir William's 
eye, and he determined first to get possession of it. Col. Rahl 
was accordingly detached with a brigade of Hessians, to make a 
circuit southwardly round a piece of wood, cross the Bronx about 
a quarter of a mile below, and ascend the south side of the hill; 
while Gen. Leslie, with a large force, British and Hessians, should 
advance directly in front, throw a bridge across the stream, and 
charge up the hill. A furious cannonade was now opened by the 
British under cover of which, the troops of Gen. Leslie hastened 
to construct the bridge. In so doing, they were severely galled 
by two field-pieces, planted on a ledge of rock on Chatterton's 
Hill, and in charge of Alexander Hamilton, the youthful captain of 
artillery. Smallwood's Maryland battalion, also, kept up a sharp 
fire of small-arms. As soon as the bridge was finished, the British 
and Hessians under Leshe rushed over it, formed, and charged up 
the hill to take Hamilton's two field-pieces. Three times the field- 
pieces were discharged, plowing the ascending columns from hill- 
top to river, while Smallwood's "blue and buff" Marylanders kept 
up their volleys of musketry. In the mean time, Rahl and his 
Hessian brigade forded the Bronx lower down, pushed up the 
south side of the hill, and endeavored to turn McDougall's right 
flank. The militia gave the general but little support. They had 
been dismayed at the opening of the engagement by a shot from a 
British cannon, which wounded one of them in the thigh, and 
nearly put the whole to flight. It was with the utmost difficulty 
McDougall had rallied them, and posted them behind a stone wall. 
Here they did some service, until a troop of British cavalry, having 
gained the crest of the hill, came on, brandishing their sabers. At 
uieir first charge the militia gave a random, scattering fire, tlien 



17/6.] THE ARMIES AT WHITE PLAINS. 267 

broke, and fled in complete confusion. A brave stand was made 
on the summit of the hill by Haslet, Ritzema, and Smalhvood, with 
their troops. Twice they repulsed horse and foot, British and 
Hessians, until, cramped for room and greatly outnumbered, they 
slowly and sullenly retreated down the north side of the hill, where 
there was a bridge across the Bronx. Smallwood remained upon 
the ground for some time after the retreat had begun and received 
two flesh wounds, one in the hip, the other through the arm. At 
the bridge over the Bronx, the retreating troops were met by Gen. 
Putnam, who was coming to their assistance with Beall's brigade. 
In the rear of this they marched back into the camp. The loss on 
both sides, in this short but severe action, w^as nearly equal. That 
of the Americans was between three and four hundred men, killed, 
wounded, and taken prisoners. 

The British army now rested with their left wing on the hill they 
had just taken, and which they were busy intrenching. They were 
extending their right wing to the left of the American lines, so that 
their two wings and center formed nearly a semicircle. It was 
evidently their design to outflank the American camp, and get in 
the rear of it. "The two armies," says Gen. Heath in his Memoirs, 
"lay looking at each other, within long cannon shot. In the night 
time the British lighted up a vast number of fires, the weather grow- 
ing pretty cold. These fires, some on the level ground, some at 
the foot of the hills, and at all distances to their brows, some of 
v/hich were lofty, seemed to the eye to mix with the stars. The 
American side doubtless exhibited to them a similar appearance. 
During this anxious night, Washington was assiduously occupied 
throwing back his right wing to stronger ground; doubhng his 
intrenchments and constructing three redoubts, with a line in 
front, on the summit of his post. These works were principally 
intended for defence against small-arms, and were made of the 
stalks of Indian corn or maize taken from a neighboring corn-field 
and pulled up with the earth clinging in masses to the large roots. 
"The roots of the stalks," says Heath, "and earth on them placed 
in the face of the works, answered the purpose of sods and fas- 
cines. The tops being placed inward, as the loose earth was 
thrown upon them, became as so many trees to the work, which 
was carried up with a dispatch scarcely conceivable." In the 
morning of the 29th, when Howe beheld how greatly Washington 
had improved his position and strengthened it, by what appeared 
to be solidly constructed works, he postponed his meditated assault, 
ordered up Lord Percy from Harlem with the fourth brigade and 
two battalions of the sixth, and proceeded to throw up Imes and 
redoubts in front of the American camp, as if preparing to can- 
nonade it. As the enemy were endeavoring to outflank him, espe- 
cially on his right wing, Washington apprehended one ot their 
objects might be to advance a part of their force, and seize on 
Pine's Bridge over Croton River, which would cut off" his commu- 
nication with the upper country. Gen. Beall, with three Maryland 
regiments, was sent off with all expedition to secure that pass. 
Nothing could exceed the war-worn condition of the troops, unsea- 



26S LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

soned as they were to this kind of service. "The rebel army/* 
wrote a British officer, "are in so wretched a condition, as to cloth- 
ing and accouterments, that I believe no nation ever saw such a 
set of tatterdemaHons. There are few coats among them but what 
are out at elbows ; in a whole regiment there is scarce a pair of 
breeches. Judge, then, how they must be pinched by a winter's 
campaign. We, who are warmly clothed and well equipped, 
aheady feel it severely ; for it is even now much colder than 1 ever 
felt it in England." Alas for the poor-naked, weather-beaten 
patriots, who had to cope with these well-armed, well-clad, well- 
appointed mercenaries. 

On the night of the 31st, Washington made another of those 
moves which perplexed the worthy Clinton. In the course of the 
night he shifted his whole position, set fire to the barns and out- 
houses containing forage and stores, which there was no time to 
remove, and, leaving a strong rearguard on the heights, and in the 
neighboring" wood, retired with his main army a distance of five 
miles, among the high, rocky hills about Northcastle. Here he 
immediately set to work to intrench and fortify himself; his policy 
at this time being, as he used to say, *' to fight with the spade and 
mattock." Gen. Howe did not attempt to dislodge him from his 
fastness. He at one time ordered an attack on the rearguard, but 
a violent rain prevented it, and for two or three days he remained 
seemingly inactive. During the night of the 4th, this quiet was 
interrupted. A mysterious sound was heard in the direction of the 
British camp, like the rumbling of wagons and artillery. The 
enemy were decamping. Long trains were observed, defiling 
across the hilly country, along the roads leading to Dobbs* Ferry 
on the Hudson, The movement continued for three successive 
days, until their whole force, British and Hessians, disappeared 
from White Plains. 

Affairs at Fort Washington soon settled the question of the 
enemy's intentions with regard to it. Lord Percy took his station 
with a body of troops before the lines to the south. Knyphausen 
advanced on the north. The Americans had previously aband- 
oned Fort Independence, burned its barracks, and removed the 
stores and cannon. Crossing King's Bridge, Knyphausen took a 
position between it and Fort Washington. The approach to the 
fort, on this side, was exceedingly steep and rocky ; as, indeed, 
were all its approaches excepting that on the south, where the coun- 
try was more open, and the ascent gradual. The fort could not 
hold within its walls above one thousand men; the rest of the 
troops were distributed about the lines and outworks. While the 
fort was thus menaced, the chevaux-de-frise had again proved inef- 
ficient. On the night of the 5th, a frigate and two transports, 
bound up to Dobbs' Ferry, with supplies for Howe's army, had 
broken through; through, according to Greene's account, not with- 
out being considerably shattered by the batteries. Accounts had 
been received at headquarters of a considerable movement on the 
preceding evening (Nov. 7th), among the enemy's boats at Dobbs' 
Ferry. Washington, directed Greene tQ have all the stores not 



1 776. J WASHING TON A T PEEKSKILL. 269 

necessary to the defence removed immediately, and to destroy all 
the stock, the hay and grain, in the neighborhood, which the own- 
ers refused to remove. " Experience has shown," adds he " that 
a contrary conduct is not of the least advantage to the poor inhab- 
itants, from whom all their effects of every kind are taken without 
distinction and without the least satisfaction." 

On the loth of November, Washington left the camp at 
Northcastle, at i£ o'clock, and arrived at Peekskill at sunset: 
whither General Heath, with his division, had preceded him by a 
few hours. Lord Stirling was there, hkewise, having effected the 
transportation of the Maryland and Virginia troops across the 
river, and landed them at the ferry south of Stony Point • though 
a better landing was subsequently found north of the point He 
was now at the entrance of the Highlands, that grand defile of the 
Hudson, the object of so much precaution and solicitude. On the 
following morning, accompanied by Generals Heath, Stirling. 
James and George Clinton, Mifflin, and others, he made a military 
visit m boats to the Highland posts. Fort Montgomery was in a 
considerable state of forwardness, and a work in the vicinity was 
projected to cooperate with it. Fort Constitution commanded a 
sudden bend of the river, but Lord Stirling, in his report of inspec- 
tion, had intimated that the fort itself was commanded by West 
Point opposite. A glance of the eye, without going on shore, was 
sufficient to convince Washington of the fact. A fortress subse- 
quently erected on that point, has been considered the Key of the 
Highlands. On the morning of the 12th, at an early hour, Wash- 
ington rode out with Gen. Heath to reconnoiter the east side of the 
Hudson, at the gorge of the Highlands. Near Robinson's Bridge, 
in this vicinity, about two miles from Peekskill, he chose a place 
where troops should be stationed to cover the south entrance into 
the mountains ; and here, afterward, was established an important 
militajy depot called Continental Village. 

During his brief and busy sojourn at Peekskill, Washington 
received important intelligence from the Northern army ; especially 
that part of it on Lake Champlain. under the command of Gen. 
Gates. The preparations for the defence of Ticonderoga, and the 
nautical service on the lake, had met with difficulties at every step. 
At length by the middle of August, a small flotilla was completed, 
composed of a sloop and schooner each of twelve guns (six and 
tour pounders) two schooners mounting eight guns each, and five 
gondolas, each of three guns. The flotilla was subsequently 
augmented and the command given by Gates to Arnold, in com- 
pliance with the advice of Washington ; who had a high opinion of 
tliat officer s energy, intrepidity, and fertility in expedients. Sir 
Guy Carleton, in the mean lime, was straining every nerve for the 
approaching conflict. Vessels were brought from England in 
pieces and put together at St. Johns, boats of various kinds and 
sizes were transported over land, or dragged up the rapids of the 
borel. The soldiers shared with the seamen in the toil. The 
Canadian farmers, also, were taken from their agricultural pursuits, 
and compelled to aid in these, to them, unprofitable labors Sir 



Vjo LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Guy was full of hope and ardor. Should he get the command of 
Lakes Champlain and George, the northern part of New York 
would be at his mercy ; before winter set in he might gain posses- 
sion of Albany. He would then be able to cooperate with Gen. 
Howe in severing and subduing the northern and southern 
provinces, and bringing the war to a speedy and triumphant close. 
In despite of every exertion, three months elapsed before his 
armament was completed. Winter was fast approaching. Before 
it arrived, the success of his briUiant plan required that he should 
fight his way across Lake Champlain ; carry the strong posts of 
Crown Point and Ticonderoga ; traverse Lake George, and pursue 
a long and dangerous march through a wild and rugged country, 
beset with forests and morasses, to Albany. That was the first 
post to the southward where he expected to find rest and winter 
quarters for his troops. By the month of October, between twenty 
and thirty sail were afloat, and ready for action. The gunboats 
mounted brass field-pieces and howitzers. Seven hundred seamen 
navigated the fleet ; two hundred of them were volunteers from the 
transports. The guns were worked by detachments from the corps 
of artillery. Capt. Pringle conducted the armament, but Sir Guy 
Carleton was too full of zeal, and too anxious for the event, not to 
head the enterprise ; he accordingly took his station on the deck of 
the flag-ship Inflexible. They made sail early in October, in quest 
of the American squadron, which was said to be abroad upon the 
lake. Arnold, however, being ignorant of the strength of the 
enemy, and unwilling to encounter a superior force in the open 
lake, had taken his post under cover of Valcour Island, in the 
upper part of a deep channel, or strait between that island and the 
mainland. His force consisted of three schooners, two sloops, 
three galleys and eight gondolas ; carrying in all seventy guns, 
many of them eighteen-pounders. The British ships, sweeping 
past Cumberland Head with a fair wind and flowing sail on the 
morning of the nth, had left the southern end of Valcour Island 
astern, when they discovered Arnold's flotilla anchored behind it, 
in a line extending across the strait so as not to be outflanked. 
They immediately hauled close to the wind, and tried to beat up 
into the channel. The wind, however, did not permit the largest 
of them to enter. Arnold took advantage of the circumstance. 
He was on board of the galley Congress, and, leaving the hne, 
advanced with two other galleys and the schooner Royal Savage, 
to attack the smaller vessels as they entered before the large ones 
could come up. About twelve o'clock the enemy's schooner 
Carleton opened a brisk fire upon the Royal Savage and the 
galleys. The Royal Savage ran aground. Her crew set her on 
fire and abandoned her. In about an hour the British brought all 
their gunboats in a range across the lower part of the channel, 
within musket shot of the Americans. They landed a large force 
of Indians on the island, to keep up a galling fire from the shore 
upon the Americans with their rifles. The action now became 
general, and was severe and sanguinary. The Americans, finding 
themsch es thus hemmed in by a superior force, fought with des- 



1 7 76. J BE A I ^ER V OF ARNOLD. 27 1 

peration. Arnold pressed with his galley into the hottest of the 
fight. The Congress was hulled several times, received seven 
shots between wind and water, was shattered in mast and rigging, 
and many of the crew were killed or wounded. The ardor of 
Arnold increased with his danger. He cheered on his men by 
voice and example, often pointing the guns with his own hands. 
He was ably seconded by Brig. -Gen. Waterbury, in the Washing- 
ton galley, which, like his own vessel, was terribly cut up. The 
contest lasted throughout the day. Carried on as it was within a 
narrov.'^ compass, and on a tranquil lake, almost every shot took 
effect. The fire of the Indians from the shore was less deadly than 
had been expected ; but their whoops and yells, mingling with the 
rattling of the musketry, and the thundering of the cannon, in- 
creased the horrors of the scene. Volumes of smoke rose above 
the woody shores, which echoed with the usual din of war, and for 
a time this lovely recess of a beautiful and peaceful lake was 
rendered a perfect pandemonium. Arnold, sensible that with his 
inferior and crippled force all resistance would be unavailing, took 
advantage of a dark cloudy night, and a strong north wind; his 
vessels slipped silently through the enemy's line without being dis- 
covered, one following a light on the stern of the other ; and by 
daylight they were out of sight They had to anchor, however, at 
Schuyler's Island, about ten miles up the lake, to stop leaks and 
make repairs. Two of the gondolas were here sunk, being past 
remedy. Arnold's galley, the Congress, the Washington galley, 
and four gondolas, all which had suffered severely in the late fight, 
fell astern of the rest of the squadron in the course of the night. 
In the morning, when the sun lifted a fog which had covered the 
lake, they beheld the enemy within a few miles of them in full 
chase, while their own comrades were nearly out of sight, making 
the best of their way for Crown Point. Arnold, with the crippled 
relics of his squadron, managed by noon to get within a few 
leagues of Crown Point, when they were overtaken by the Inflexi- 
ble, the Carleton, and the schooner Maria of 14 guns. As soon 
as they came up, they poured in a tremendous fire. The Wash- 
ington galley, already shattered, and having lost most of her offic- 
ers, was compelled to strike, and Gen. Waterbury and the crew 
were taken prisoners, Arnold had now to bear the brunt of the 
action. For a long time he was engaged within musket shot with 
the Inflexible, and the two schooners, until his galley was reduced 
to a wreck and one third of the crew were killed. The gondolas 
were nearly in the same desperate condition ; yet the men stood 
stoutly to their guns. Seeing resistance vain, Arnold determined 
that neither vessels nor crews should fall into the hands of the 
enemy. He ordered the gondolas to run on shore, in a small creek 
in the neighborhood, the men to set fire to them as soon as they 
grounded, to wade on shore with their muskets, and keep off the 
enemy until they were consumed. He did the same with his own 
galley ; remaining on board of her until she was in flames, lest the 
enemy should get possession and strike his flag, which was kept 
flying to the last. He now set off with his g^allant crew, many of 



272 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

whom were wounded, by a road through the woods to Crown 
Point, where he arrived at night, narrowly escaping an Indian 
ambush. Two schooners, two galleys, one sloop and one gondola, 
the remnant which had escaped of this squadron, were at anchor 
at the Point, and Gen. Waterbury and most of his men arrived 
there the next day on parole. Seeing that the place must soon fall 
into the hands of the enemy, they set fire to the house, destroyed 
everything they could not carry away, and embarking in the ves- 
sels made sail for Ticonderoga. The loss of the Americans in these 
two actions is said to have been between eighty and ninety men ; 
that of the British about forty. Sir Guy Carleton took possession 
of the ruined works at Crown Point, where he was soon joined by 
the army. He made several movements by land and water, as if 
meditating an attack upon Ticonderoga. Gen. Gates strengthened 
his works with incessant assiduity, and made every preparation for 
an obstinate defence. A strong easterly wind prevented the 
enemy's ships from advancing to attack the lines, and gave lime 
for the arrival of reinforcements of militia to the garrison. Carle- 
ton returned to St. Johns, and cantoned his troops in Canada for 
the winter. It was not until about the 1st of November, that a 
reconnoitering party, sent out from Ticonderoga by Gen. Gates, 
brought him back intelligence that Crown Point was abandoned by 
the enemy, and not a hostile sail in sight. All apprehensions of 
an attack upon Ticonderoga during the present year were at an 
end, and many of the troops stationed there were already on their 
march toward Albany. 

On the morning of the 1 2th of November, Washington crossed 
the Hudson, to the ferry below Stony Point, with the residue 
of the troops destined for the Jerseys. Far below were to be 
descried the Phoenix, the Roebuck, and the Tartar, at anchor 
in the broad waters of Haverstraw Bay and the Tappan Sea, 
guarding the lower ferries. The army, thus shut out from the 
nearer passes, was slowly winding its way by a circuitous route 
through the gap in the mountains, which Lord Stirling had 
secured. Leaving the troops which had just landed, to pursue 
the same route to the Hackensack, Washington, accompanied 
by Col, Reed, struck a direct course for Fort Lee, being anxious 
about affairs at Fort Washington. He resolved to continue a 
few days in this neighborhood, during which he trusted the de- 
signs of the enemy would be more apparent. The capture of 
Fort Washington was at present, Howe's main object ; and he 
was encamped on Fordham Heights, not far from King's Bridge, 
until preliminary steps should be taken. In the night of the 14th, 
thirty flat-bottomed boats stole quietly up the Hudson, passed 
the American forts undiscovered, and made their way through 
Spuyten Duyvil Creek into Harlem River. On the 15th, Howe 
sent in a summons to surrender, with a threat of extremities should 
he have to carry the place by assault. Magaw, in his reply, inti- 
mated a doubt that Gen. Howe would execute a threat "so unworthy 
of himself and the British nation ; but give me leave," added he, 
"to assure his Excellency, that, actuated by the most glorious 



I776.J ATTACK OF FORT WASHINGTON. 273 

cause that mankind ever fought in, I am determined to defend this 
post to the very last extremity." Apprised by the Colonel of his peril, 
Gen. Greene sent over reinforcements, with an exhortation to him 
to persist in his defence ; and dispatched an express to Washington, 
who was at Hackensack, where the troops which had crossed from 
Peekskill were encamped. It was nightfall when Washington ar- 
rived at Fort Lee. Greene and Putnam were over at the besieged 
fortress. He threw himself into a boat, and had partly crossed the 
river, when he met those generals returning. They informed him 
of the garrison's having been reinforced, and assured him that it 
was in high spirits, and capable of making a good defence. It was 
with difficulty, however, they could prevail on him to return with 
them to the Jersey shore, for he was excessively excited. Early 
the next morning (l6th), Magaw made his disposition for the ex- 
pected attack. His forces, with the recent addition amounted to 
nearly three thousand men. Howe had planned four simultaneous 
attacks ; one on the north by Knyphausen, who was encamped on 
the York side of King's Bridge, within cannon shot of Fort Wash- 
ington, but separated from it by high and rough hills, covered 
with almost impenetrable woods. He was to advance in two 
columns, formed by detachments made from the Hessians of his 
corps, the brigade of Rahl, and the regiment of W^aldeckers. 
The second attack was to be by two battaUons of light infantry 
and two battalions of guards, under Brigadier-Gen. Mathew, who 
was to cross Harlem River in flat-boats, under cover of the 
redoubts above mentioned, and to land on the right of the 
fort. This attack was to be supported by the first and second 
grenadiers, and a regiment of light infantry under command of 
Cornwallis. The third attack, intended as a feint to distract the 
attention of the Americans, was to be by Col. Sterling, with 
the forty-second regiment, who was to drop down the Harlem 
River in bateaux, to the left of the American lines, facing New 
York. The fourth attack was to be on the south, by Lord Percy, 
with the English and Hessian troops under his command, on the 
right flank of the American intrenchments. About noon, a 
heavy cannonade thundering along the rocky hills, and sharp 
volleys of musketry, proclaimed that the action was commenced. 
Knyphausen' s division was pushing on from the north in two 
columns, as had been arranged. The right was led by Col. 
Rahl, the left by himself. Rahl essayed to mount a steep, 
broken height called Cock Hill, which rises from Spuyten Duyvil 
Creek, and was covered with woods. Knyphausen undertook a 
hill rising from the King's Bridge road, but soon found himself 
entangled in a woody defile, difficult to penetrate, and where his 
Hessians were exposed to the fire of the three-gun battery, and 
RawHngs' riflemen. While this was going on at the north of the 
fort, Gen. Mathew, with his light infantry and guards, crossed the 
Harlem River in the flat-boats, under cover of a heavy fire from 
the redoubts. He made good his landing, after being severely 
handled by Baxter and his men, from behind rocks and trees, and 
the breastworks thrown up on the steep river bank. Baxter, while 



2/4 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

bravely encouraging his men, was killed by a British officer. His 
troops, overpowered by numbers, retreated to the fort. Gen. 
Mathew now pushed on with his guards and light infantry to cut 
off Cadwalader. That officer had gallantly defended the lines 
against the attack of Lord Percy, until informed that Col. Sterling 
was dropping down Harlem River in bateaux to flank the lines, 
and take him in the rear. He sent off a detachment to oppose his 
landing. They did it manfully. About ninety of Sterling's men 
were killed or wounded in their boats, but he persevered, land- 
ed, and forced his way up a steep height, which was well 
defended, gained the summit, forced a redoubt, and took nearly 
two hundred prisoners. Thus doubly assailed, Cadwalader was 
obliged to retreat to the fort. He was closely pursued by Percy 
with his EngUsh troops and Hessians, but turned repeatedly on 
his pursuers. Thus he fought his way to the fort, with the loss 
of several killed and more taken prisoners; but marking his 
track by the number of Hessians slain. The defence on the 
north side of the fort was equally obstinate and unsuccessful. 
Rawlings, with his Maryland riflemen and the aid of the three- 
gun battery, had for some time kept the left column of Hessians 
and Waldeckers under Knyphausen at bay. At length Col. Rahl, 
with the right column of the division, having forced his Vv'ay directly 
up the north side of the steep hill at Spuyten Duyvil Creek, 
came upon Rawlings' men, whose rifles from frequent discharges, 
had become foul and almost useless, drove them from their strong 
post, and followed them until within a hundred yards of the fort, 
where he was joined by Knyphausen, who had slowly made h'i3 
way through dense forest and over felled trees. Here they took 
post behind a large stone house, and sent in a flag, with a second 
summons to surrender. Washington, surrounded by several of his 
officers, had been an anxious spectator of the battle from the 
opposite side of the Hudson. Much of it was hidden from him by 
intervening hills and forest ; but the roar of cannonry from the 
valley of Harlem River, the sharp and incessant reports of rifles 
and the smoke rising above the tree tops, told him of the spirit 
with which the assault was received at various points, and gs^ve 
him for a time a hope that the defence might be successful. 
The action about the lines to the south lay open to him, and 
could be distinctly seen through a telescope ; and nothing en- 
couraged him more than the gallant style in which Cadwalader 
with an inferior force maintained his position. When he saw 
him, however, assailed in flank, the line broken, and his troops, 
overpowered by numbers, retreating to the fort, he gave up the 
game as lost. The worst sight of all, was to behold his men 
cut down and bayoneted by the Hessians while begging quarter. 
It is said so completely to have overcome him, that he Avept 
"with the tenderness of a child." It was no longer possible for 
Magaw to get his troops to man the lines ; he was compelled, 
therefore, to yield himself and his garrison prisoners of war 
The only terms granted them were, that the men .should retain 
their baggage and the officers their swords. 



1 776.] WASHING TON AT HA CKENSA CK. 275 

The sight of the American flag hauled down, and the Biitibh flag 
waving in its place told Washington of the surrender. His instant 
care was for the safety of the upper country, now that the lower 
defences of the Hudson were at an end. 



CHAPTER XIH. 

WASHINGTON IN THE JERSEYS. 

With the capture of Fort Washington, the project of 
obstructing the navigation of the Hudson, at that point, was at an 
end. Fort Lee, consequently, became useless, and Washington 
ordered all the ammunition and stores to be removed, preparatory 
to its abandonment. This was effected with the whole of the 
ammunition, and a part of the stores, and every exertion was 
making to hurry off the remainder, when, early in the morning of 
the 20th, intelligence was brought that the enemy had crossed the 
Hudson in two divisons, one diagonally upward from King's 
Bridge, landing on the west side, about eight o'clock ; the other 
marched up the east bank, three or four miles, and then crossed to 
the opposite shore. The whole corps, six thousand strong, and 
under the command of Lord Cornwallis, were landed, with their 
cannon, by ten o'clock, at a place called Closter Dock, five or six 
miles above Fort Lee, and under that line of lofty and perpen- 
dicular cliffs known as the Palisades. Washington arrived at the 
fort in three-quarters of an hour. Being told that the enemy were 
extending themselves across the country, he at once saw that they 
intended to form a line from the Hudson to the Hackensack, and 
hem the whole garrison in between the two rivers. Nothing 
would save it but a prompt retreat to secure the bridge over the 
Hackensack. The retreat commenced in all haste. There was a 
want of horses and wagons ; a great quantity of baggage, stores 
and provisions, therefore, was abandoned. So was all the artillery 
excepting two twelve-pounders. Even the tents were left standing, 
and camp-kettles on the fire. With all their speed they did not 
reach the Hackensack River before the vanguard of the enemy 
was close upon them. Expecting a brush, the greater part hurried 
over the bridge, others crossed at the ferry, and some higher up. 

Washington wrote to Lee, Nov. 21st: "I am of opinion, and the 
gentlemen about me concur in it, that the public interest requires 
your coming over to this side of the Hudson with the Continental 
troops. Inhabitants of this country will expect the Continental 
army to give them what support they can ; and faihngin that, they 
will cease to depend upon, or support a force from which no pro- 
tection is to be derived. It is, therefore, of the utmost importance, 
that at least an appearance of force should'iDe made, to keep this 
province in connection with the others." 

At Hackensack the army did not exceed three thousand men, 
and they were dispirited by ill success, and the loss of tents and 



276 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

baggage. They were without intrenching tools, in a flat country, 
where there were no natural fastnesses. Washington resolved, 
therefore, to avoid any attack from the enemy, though, by so do- 
ing, he must leave a fine and fertile region open to their ravages ; 
or a plentiful storehouse, from which they would draw voluntary 
supplies. A second move was necessary, again to avoid the danger 
of being inclosed between two rivers. Leaving three regiments, 
therefore, to guard the passes of the Hackensack, and serve as 
covering parties, he again decamped, and threw himself on the 
West bank of the Passaic, in the neighborhood of Newark. His 
army, small as it was, would soon be less. The term of enlistment 
of those under General Mercer, from the flying-camp, was nearly 
expired ; and it was not probable that, disheartened as they were 
by defeats and losses, exposed to inclement weather, and unaccus- 
tomed to military hardships, they would longer forego the comforts 
of their homes, to drag out the residue of a ruinous campaign. In 
addition, too, to the superiority of the force that was following him, 
the rivers gave the enemy facilities, by means of their shipping, to 
throw troops in his rear. The situation of the little army was daily 
becoming more perilous. Breaking up his camp once more, 
Washington continued his retreat toward New Brunswick ; but so 
close was CornwaUis upon him, that his advance entered one end 
of Newark, just as the American rear-guard had left the other. 
He wrote on the 29th to William Livingston, governor of the Jer- 
seys, requesting him to have all boats and river craft, for seventy 
miles along the Delaware, removed to the western bank out of the 
reach of the enemy, and put under guard. All the force he could 
muster at Brunswick, including the New Jersey militia, did not ex- 
ceed four thousand men. At this moment of care and perplexity, 
a letter, forwarded by express, anived at headquarters. It was 
from Gen. Lee, dated from his camp at Northcastle, to Col. Reed, 
and was in reply to the letter written by that officer from Hacken- 
sack on the 2 1 St, which we have already laid before the reader. 
Supposing that it related to official business, Washington opened 
it, and read as follows : " My dear Reed : — I received your most 
obliging, flattering letter; lament with you that fatal indecision of 
mind, which in war is a much greater disqualification that stupidity, 
or even want of personal courage. Accident may put a decisive 
blunderer in the right ; but eternal defeat and miscarriage must at- 
tend the man of the best parts, if cursed with indecision. The 
General recommends in so pressing a manner as almost to amount 
to an order, to bring over the continental troops under my com- 
mand, which recommendation, or order, throws me into the greatest 
dilemma. My reason for not having marched already is, that we 
have just received intelligence that Roger's corps, the light-horse, 
part of the Highlanders, and another brigade, he in so exposed a 
situation as to give the fairest opportunity of being carried. I 
should have attempted it last night, but the rain was too violent, 
and when our pieces are wet, you know our troops are hors du 
combat. I really think our chief will be better with me than with- 
out me." A glance over this letter sufficed to show Washington 



I776.J WASHINGTON A T BRUNSIVICK. 277 

that, at this dark moment, vhen he most needed support and sym- 
pathy, his character and military conduct were the subject of dis- 
paraging comments, between the friend in whom he had so im- 
plicitly confided, and a sarcastic and apparently self-constituted 
rival. Whatever may have been his feelings of wounded pride and 
outraged friendship, he restrained them, and inclosed the letter to 
Reed, with the following chilHng note : "Dear Sir: — The in- 
closed was put into my- hands by an express from White Plains. 
Having no idea of its being a private letter, much less suspecting 
the tendency of the correspondence, I opened it, as I have done 
all other letters to you from the same place, and Peekskill, upon 
the business of your office, as I conceived, and found them to be." 
The very calmness and coldness of this note must have had a 
greater effect upon Reed, than could have been produced by the 
most vehement reproaches. In subsequent communications, he 
endeavored to explain away the offensive paragraphs in Lee's letter, 
declaring there was nothing in his own inconsistent with the respect 
and affection he had ever borne for Washington's person and 
character. Fortunately for Reed, Washington never saw that 
letter. There were passages in it beyond the reach of softening 
explanation. As it was, the purport of it, as reflected in Lee's 
reply, had given him a sufficient shock. His magnanimous nature, 
however, was incapable of harboring long resentments ; especially 
in matters relating solely to himself. His personal respect for Col. 
Reed continued ; he invariably manifested a high sense of his 
merits, and consulted him, as before, on military affairs ; but his 
hitherto affectionate confidence in him, as a sympathizing friend, 
had received an incurable wound. His letters, before so frequent, 
and such perfect outpourings of heart and mind, became few and 
far between, and confined to matters of business. — Washington 
lingered at Brunswick until the 1st of December, in the vain hope 
of being reinforced. The enemy, in the mean time, advanced 
through the country, impressing wagons and horses, and collecting 
cattle and sheep, as if for a distant march. At length their van- 
guard appeared on the opposite side of the Raritan. Washington 
immediately broke down the end of the bridge next the village, and 
after nightfall resumed his retreat. In the mean time, as the river 
was fordable, Capt. Alexander Hamilton planted his field-pieces on 
high, commanding ground, and opened a spirited fire to check any 
attempt of the enemy to cross. At Princeton, Washington left 
twelve hundred men in two brigades, under Lord Stirling and Gen. 
Adam Stephen, to cover the country, and watch the motions of 
the enemy. Stephen was the same officer that had served as a col- 
onel under Washington in the French war, as second in command 
of the Virginia troops, and had charge of Fort Cumberland. In 
consideration of his courage and military capacity, he had, in 1764, 
been intrusted with the protection of the frontier. He had recently 
brought a detachment of Virginia troops to the army, and received 
from Congress, in September, the commission of brigadier-general. 
The harassed army reached Trenton on the 2d of December. 
Washington immediately proceeded to remove iiis baggage and 



278 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

stores across the Delaware. In his letters from this place to the 
President of Congress, he gives his reasons for his continued retreat. 
" Nothing but necessity obliged me to retire before the enemy, and 
leave so much of the Jerseys unprotected. If the militia of this 
State had stepped forth in season we might have prevented the 
enemy's crossing the Hackensack. We might, with equal possibil- 
ity of success, have made a stand at Brunswick on the Raritan. 
But as both these rivers were fordable in a variety of places, being 
knee deep only, it required many men to guard the passes, and 
these we had not." In excuse for the people of New Jersey, it 
may be observed, that they inhabited an open, agricultural country, 
where the sound of war had never been heard. IVIany of them 
looked upon the Revolution as rebellion ; others thought it a ruined 
enterprise ; the armies engaged in it had been defeated and 
broken up. They beheld the commander-in-chief retreating 
through their country with a handful of men, weary, wayworn, 
dispirited ; without tents, without clothing, many of them bare- 
footed, exposed to wintry weather, and driven from post to post, 
by a well-clad, well-fed, triumphant force, tricked out in all the 
glittering bravery of war. Could it be wondered at, that peaceful 
husbandmen, seeing their quiet fields thus suddenly overrun by ad- 
verse hosts, and their very hearthstones threatened with outrage, 
should, instead of flying to arms, seek for the safety of their wives 
and little ones, and the protection of their humble means, from the 
desolation which too often marks the course e\'en of friendly 
armies? Lord Howe and his brother sought to profit by this dis- 
may and despondency. A proclamation, dated 30th of November, 
commanded all persons in arms against his majesty's government, 
to disband and return home, and all Congresses to desist from trea- 
sonable acts : offering a free pardon to all who should comply 
within fifty days. Many who had been prominent in the cause 
hastened to take advantage of this proclamation. Those who had 
most property to lose were the first to submit. The middle ranks 
remained generally steadfast in this time of trial. 

In this dark day of peril to the cause, and to himself, Washing- 
ton remained firm and undaunted. In casting about for some 
stronghold where he might make a desperate stand for the 
hberties of his country, his thoughts reverted to the mountain 
regions of his early campaigns. Gen. Mercer was at hand, who 
had shared his perils among these mountains, and his presence 
may have contributed to bring them to his mind. " What think 
you." said Washington ; " if we should retreat to the back parts of 
Pennsylvania, would the Pennsylvanians support us?" "If the 
lower counties give up, the back counties will do the same," was 
the discouraging reply. " We must then retire to Augusta County 
in Virginia," said Washington. " Numbers will repair to us for 
safety, and we will try a predatory v/ar. If overpowered, we must 
cross the Alleghanies." Such was the indomitable spirit, rising un- 
der difficulties, and buoyant in the darkest moment, that kept our 
tempest-tossed cause from foundering. Notwithstanding the repeated 
and pressing orders and entreaties of the commander-in-chief, 



1776.] CORNWALLIS FOILED, 279 

Lee did not reach Peekskill until the 30th of November. In a letter 
of that date to Washington, who had complained of his delay, 
he simply alleged difficulties, which he would explain when both 
had leisure. His scheme to entrap Rogers, the renegade, had 
failed; the old Indian hunter had been too much on the alert; he 
boasted, however, to have rendered more service by his delay, 
than he would have done had he moved sooner. His forces were 
thereby augmented, so that he exjjected to enter the Jerseys with 
four thousand finri and willing men, who would make a very im- 
portant diversion. It was not until the 4th of December, that he 
crossed the Hudson and began a laggard march, though aware of 
the imminent peril of Washington and his army — how different 
from the celerity of his movements in his expedition to the South ! 
In the mean time, Washington, who was at Trenton, had profited 
by a delay of the enemy at Brunswick, and removed most of the 
stores and baggage of the army across the Delaware ; and, being 
reinforced by fifteen hundred of the Pennsylvania militia, procured 
by Mifflin, prepared to face about, and march back to Princeton 
with such of his troops as were fit for service, there to be governed 
by circumstances, and the movements of Gen. Lee. Accordingly, 
on the 5th of December he sent about twelve hundred men in the 
advance, to reinforce Lord Stirling, and the next day set off himself 
with the residue. Cornwallis, being strongly reinforced, made a 
forced march from Brunswick, and was within two miles of Prince- 
ton. Stirling, to avoid being surrounded, immediately set out with two 
brigades for Irenton. Washington hastened back to that place, and 
caused boats to be collected from all quarters, and the stores and 
troops transported across the Delaware. He himself crossed with 
the rear-guard on Sunday morning, and took up his quarters about 
a mile from the river; causing the boats to be destroyed, and troops 
to be posted opp>osite the fords. He was conscious, however, as 
he said, that with his small force he could make no great opposi- 
tion, should the enemy bring boats with them. Fortunately they 
did not come thus provided. Not one was to be had there or else- 
where ; for W^ashington had caused the boats, for an extent of 
seventy miles up and down the river, to be secured on the right 
bank. His lordship was effectually brought to a stand. He made 
some moves with two columns, as if he would cross the Delaware 
above and below, either to push on to Philadelphia, or to entrap 
Washington in the acute angle made by the bend of the river oppo- 
site Bordentown. An able disposition of American troops along the 
upper part of the river, and of a number of galleys below, dis- 
couraged any attempt of the kind. Cornwallis, therefore, gave up 
the pursuit, distributed the German troops in cantonments along 
the left bank of the river, and stationed his main force at Bruns- 
wick. Putnam was now detached to take command of Philadel- 
phia, and put it in a state of defence, and General Mifflin to have 
charge of the munitions of war deposited there. By their advice 
Congress hastily adjourned on the 12th of December, to meet again 
on the 20th, at Baltimore. Washington's whole force at this time 
was about five thousand five hundred men ; one thousand of them 



28o LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Jersey militia, fifteen hundred militia from Philadelphia, and a bat- 
talion of five hundred of the German yeomanry of Pennsylvania. 
Gates, however, he was informed, was coming on with seven regi- 
ments detached by Schuyler from the Northern department ; rein- 
forced by these, and the troops under Lee, he hoped to be able to 
attempt a stroke upon the enemy's forces, which lay a good deal 
scattered, and to all appearances, in a state of security. ' ' A lucky 
blow in this quarter," writes he, "would be fatal to them, and 
would most certainly raise the spirits of the people, which are quite 
sunk by our late misfortunes." While cheering himself with these 
hopes, and trusting to speedy aid from Lee, that wayward com- 
mander, though nearly three weeks had elapsed since he had 
received Washington's orders and entreaties to join him with all 
possible dispatch, was no farther on his march than Morristown, 
in the Jerseys; where, with militia recruits, his force was about 
four thousand men. He now talked of crossing the great Bruns- 
wick post-road, and, by a forced night's march, making his way 
to the ferry above Burlington, where boats should be sent up from 
Philadelphia to receive him. " I am much surprised," writes 
Washington " that you should be in any doubt respecting the route 
you should take, after the information you have received upon that 
head. A large number of boats was procured, and is still retained 
at Tinicum, under a strong guard, to facilitate your passage across 
the Delaware. I have so frequently mentioned our situation, and 
the necessity of your aid, that it is painful for me to add a word on 
the subject. Congress have directed Philadelphia to be defended 
to the last extremity. The fatal consequences that must attend its 
loss are but too obvious to every one ; your arrival may be the 
means of saving it." Gen. Gates had been detached by Schuyler 
with seven regiments to reinforce Washington. Three of these 
regiments had descended the Hudson to Peekskill, and were 
ordered by Lee to Morristown. Gates had embarked with the 
remaining four, and landed with them at Esopus, whence he took 
a back route by the Delaware and the Minisink. On the lith of 
December, he was detained by a heavy snow storm, in a sequestered 
valley near the Wallpeck in New Jersey. Being cut off from all 
information respecting the adverse armies, he detached Major 
Wilkinson to seek Washington's camp, with a letter, stating the 
force under his command, and inquiring what route he should take. 
Wilkinson crossed the hills on horseback to Sussex court-house, 
took a guide, and proceeded down the country. Washington had 
passed the Delaware several days before ; the boats, he was told, 
had been removed from the ferries, so that he would find some 
difficulty in getting over, but Major-Gen. Lee was at Morristown. 
Finding such obstacles in his way to the commander-in-chief, he 
determined to seek the second in command, and ask orders from 
him for General Gates. Lee had decamped from Morristown on 
the 1 2th of December, but had marched no further than Vealtown, 
barely eight miles distant. There he left Gen. Sullivan with the 
troops, while he took up his quarters three miles oft', at a tavern, 
at Baskingridge. As there was not a British cantonment within 



1776.] CAPTURE OF GENERAL LEE. 281 

twenty miles, he took but a small guard for his protection, thinking 
himself perfectly secure. About four o'clock in the morning, Wilk- 
inson arrived at his quarters. He was presented to the general as 
he lay in bed, and delivered into his hands the letter of Gen. Gates. 
Lee, observing it was addressed to Washington, declined opening 
it, until apprised by Wilkinson of its contents, and the motives of 
his visit. He then broke the seal, and recommended Wilkinson to 
take repose. He lingered in bed until eight o'clock, and then 
came down in his usual slovenly style, half-dressed, in slippers and 
blanket coat, his collar open, and his linen apparently of some days' 
wear. After some inquiries about the campaign in the North, he 
gave Wilkinson a brief account of the operations of the main army, 
which he condemned in strong terms, and in his usual sarcastic 
way. Col. Scammel, the adjutant-general, called from Gen. Sulli- 
van for orders concerning the morning's march. After musing a 
moment or two, Lee asked him if he had a manuscript map of the 
country. It was produced, and spread upon a table. Wilkinson 
observed Lee trace with his finger the route from Vealtown to 
Pluckamin, thence to Somerset court-house, and on, by Rocky 
Hill, to Princeton; he then returned to Pluckamin, and traced 
the route in the same manner by Boundbrook to Brunswick, and 
after a close inspection carelessly said to Scammel, " Tell Gen. 
Sullivan to move down toward Pluckamin; that I wi'l soon be 
with him." This, observes Wilkinson, was off his route to Alex- 
andria on the Delaware, where he had been ordered to cross, and 
directly on that toward Brunswick and Princeton. He was con- 
vinced, therefore, that Lee meditated an attack on the British post 
at the latter place. Wilkinson was looking out of a window down 
a lane, about a hundred yards in length, leading from the house to 
the main road. Suddenly a party of British dragoons turned a 
corner of the avenue at a full charge. The guards, unwary as 
their general, and chilled by the air of a frosty morning, had 
stacked their arms, and repaired to the south side of a house on the 
opposite side of the road to sun themselves, and were now chased 
by the dragoons in different directions. The general, bareheaded, 
and in his shppers and blanket coat, was mounted on Wilkinson's 
horse, which stood at the door, and the troop clattered off with 
their prisoner to Brunswick. In three hours the booming of can- 
non in that direction told the exultation of the enemy. They 
boasted of having taken the American Palladium ; for they consid- 
ered Lee the most scientific and experienced of the rebel generals. 
Gen. Sullivan being now in command, changed his route, and 
pressed forward to join the commander-in-chief. 

Lee's military reputation, originally very high, had been enhanced 
of late, by its being generally known that he had been opposed to 
the occupation of Fort Washington ; while the fall of that fortress 
and other misfortunes of the campaign, though beyond the control- 
of the commander-in-chief, had quickened the discontent which, 
according to Wilkinson, had been generated against him at Cam- 
bridge, and raised a party against him in Congress. *' It was con- 
fidently asserted at the time," adds he, "but is not worthy of credit, 



282 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

that a motion had been made in that body tending to supersede 
him in the command of the army. In this temper of the times, if Lee 
had anticipated General Washington in cutting the cordon of the 
enemy between New York and the Delaware, the commander-in- 
chief would probably have been superseded. In this case, Lee would 
have succeeded him." What an unfortunate change would it have 
been for the country ! Lee was undoubtedly a man of brilHant 
talents, shrewd sagacity, and much knowledge and experience in 
the art of war; but he was willful, and uncertain in his temper, self- 
indulgent in his habits, and an egotist in warfare ; toldly dashing 
for a soldier's glory rather than -warily acting for a country's good. 
He wanted those great moral qualities which, in addition to mili- 
tary capacity, inspired such universal confidence in the wisdom, 
rectitude and patriotism of Washington, enabling him to direct and 
control legislative bodies as well as armies ; to harmonize the jar- 
ring passions and jealousies of a wide and imperfect confederacy, 
and to cope with the varied exigencies of the Revolution. The 
very retreat which Washington had just effected through the Jer- 
seys bore evidence to his generalship. Thomas Paine, who had 
accompanied the army "from Fort Lee to the edge of Pennsyl- 
vania," thus speaks in one of his writings published at the time : 
" With a handful of men we sustained an orderly retreat for near a 
hundred miles, brought off our ammunition, all our field-pieces, 
the greatest part of our stores, and had four rivers to pass. None 
can say that our retreat was precipitate, for we were three weeks 
in performing it, that the country might have time to come in. 
Twice we marched back to meet the enemy, and remained out un- 
til dark. The sign of fear was not seen in our camp : and had 
not some of the cowardly and disaffected inhabitants spread false 
alarms through the country, the Jerseys had never been ravaged." 
And this is his testimony to the moral qualities of the commander- 
in-chief, as evinced in this time of perils and hardships. "Vol- 
taire has remarked, that King William never appeared to full ad- 
vantage but in difficulties and in action. The same remark may 
be made by General W'ashington, for the character fits him. 
There is a natural firmness in some minds, which cannot be un- 
locked by trifles; but which, when unlocked, discovers a cabinet 
cf fortitude, and 1 reckon it among those kinds of public blessings 
which we do not immediately see, that God hath blessed him with 
uninterrupted health, and given him a mind that can even flourish 
upon care." 

Congress, prior to their adjournment, had resolved that " until they 
should otherwise order. General Washington should be possessed 
of all power to order and direct all things relative to the department 
and to the operations of war." " Thus empowered, he proceeded 
immediately to recruit three battalions of artillery. To those 
whose terms were expiring, he promised an augmentation of 
twenty-five per cent, upon their pay, and a bounty of ten dollars 
to the men for six weeks' service; " It was no time." he said, " to 
stand upon expense ; nor in matters of self-evident exigency, to 
refer to Congress at the distance of a hundred and thirty or forty 



1/76.] PREPARING TO CROSS THE DELAWARE. 283 

miles. It may be thought that I am going a good deal out of the 
line of my duty, to adopt these measures, or to advise thus 
freely. A character to lose, an estate to forfeit, the inestimable 
blessings of liberty at stake, and a life devoted, must be my 
excuse." The promise of increased pay and bounties had kept 
together for a time the dissolving army. The local militia began 
to turn out freely. Col. John Cadwalader, a gentleman of gallant 
spirit, and cultivated mind and manners, brought a large volunteer 
detachment, well equipped, and composed principally of Phil- 
adelphia troops. Washington, who held Cadwalader in high 
esteem, assigned him an important station at Bristol, with Col. 
Reed, who was his intimate friend, as an associate. They had it 
in charge to keep a watchful eye upon Count Donop's Hessians, 
who were cantoned along the opposite shore from Bordentovvn to 
the Black Horse. On the 20th of December arrived Gen. 
Sullivan in camp, with the troops recently commanded by the 
unlucky Lee. They were in a miserable plight ; destitute of 
almost everything ; many of them fit only for the hospital, and 
those whose terms were nearly out, thinking of nothing but their 
discharge. About four hundred of them, who were Rhode 
Islanders, were sent down under Col. Hitchcock to reinforce 
Cadwalader. On the same day arrived Gen. Gates, with the 
remnants of four regiments from the Northern army. With him 
came Wilkinson, who now resumed his station as brigade-major in 
St. Clair's brigade, to which he belonged. To his Memoirs we 
are indebted for notices of the commander-in-chief. "When the 
divisions of Sullivan and Gates joined General Washington," 
writes Wilkinson, "he found his numbers increased, yet his diffi- 
culties were not sensibly diminished ; ten days would disband his 
corps and leave him 1,400 men, miserably provided in all things. 
I saw him in that gloomy period ; dined with him, and attentively 
marked his aspect ; always grave and thoughtful, he appeared at 
that time pensive and solemn in the extreme." There were vivid 
schemes forming under that solemn aspect. The time seemed now 
propitious for the coup de main which Washington had of late been 
meditating. Everything showed careless confidence on the part 
of the enemy. Howe was in winter quarters at New York. His 
troops were loosely cantoned about the Jerseys, from the Delaware 
to Brunswick, so that they could not readily be brought to act in 
concert on a sudden alarm. The Hessians were in the advance, 
stationed along the Delaware, facing the American lines, which 
were along the west bank. Cornwallis, thinking his work accom- 
plished, had obtained leave of absence, and was likewise at New 
York, preparing to embark for England. Washington had now 
between five and six thousand men fit for service ; with these he 
meditated to cross the river at night, at different points, and make 
simultaneous attacks upon the Hessian advance posts. He 
calculated upon the eager support of his troops, who were burning 
to revenge the outrages on their homes and families, committed by 
these foreign mercenaries. They considered the Hessians mere 
hirehngs; slaves to a petty despot, fighting for sordid pay, and 



284 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

actuated by no sentiment of patriotism or honor. They had 
rendered themselves the horror of the Jerseys, by rapine, brutahty, 
and heartlessness. At first, their military discipUne had inspired 
awe, but of late they had become careless and unguarded, knowing 
the broken and dispirited state of the Americans, and considering 
them incapable of any offensive enterprise. 

A brigade of three Hessian regiments, those of Rahl, Lossberg, 
and Knyphausen, was stationed at Trenton. Col. Rahl had the 
command of the post at his own solicitation, and in consequence 
of the laurels he had gained at White Plains and Fort Washington. 
Whether his men when off duty were well or ill clad, whether they 
kept their muskets clean and bright, and their ammunition in good 
order, was of little moment to the colonel, he never inquired about 
it ; — but the music ! that was the thing ! the hautboys — he never 
could have enough of them. The main guard was at no great distance 
from his quarters, and the music could not linger there long enough. 
He was a boon companion; made merry until a late hour in the night, 
and then lay in bed until nine o'clock in the morning. When the offi- 
cers came to parade between ten and eleven o'clock, and presented 
themselves at headquarters, he was often in his bath, and the guard 
must be kept waiting half an hour longer. Such was the posture 
of affairs at Trenton at the time the coup de main was meditated. 
Whatever was to be done, however, must be done quickly, before 
the river was frozen. An intercepted letter had convinced 
Washington of what he had before suspected, that Howe was only 
waiting for that event to resume active operations, cross the river 
on the ice, and push on triumphantly to Philadelphia. A letter 
from W^ashington to Col. Reed, who was stationed with Cadwalader, 
shows the anxiety of his mind, and his consciousness of the peril 
of the enterprise. "Christmas day at night, one hour before day, 
is the time fixed upon for our attempt upon Trenton. For Heaven's 
sake keep this to yourself, as the discoveiy of it may prove fatal 
to us; our numbers, I am sorry to say, being less than I had any 
conception of; yet nothing but necessity, dire necessity, will, nay 
must, justify an attack. Prepare, and in concert with Griffin, 
attack as many of their posts as you possibly can, with a prospect 
of success ; the more we can attack at the same instant, the more 
confusion we shall spread, and the greater good will result from 
it. I have ordered our men to be provided with three days' 
provision ready cooked, with which, and their blankets, they are 
to march ; for if we are successful, which Heaven grant, and the 
circumstances favor, we may push on. I shall direct every ferry 
and ford to be well guarded, and not a soul suffered to pass with- 
out an officer's going down with the permit." It has been said that 
Christmas night was fixed upon for the enterprise, because the 
Germans are prone to revel and carouse on that festival, and it 
was supposed a great part of the troops would be intoxicated, and 
in a state of disorder and confusion ; but in truth Washington 
would have chosen an earlier day, had it been in his power. "We 
could not ripen matters for the attack before the time mentioned," 



\776.] WASHINGTON CROSSES THE DELAWARE. 285 

said he in a letter to Reed, '• so much out of sorts, and so much in 
want of everything are the troops under SulHvan." 

Early on the eventful evening (Dec, 25th), the troops destined 
for Washington's part of the attack, about two thousand four 
hundred strong, with a train of twenty small pieces, were paraded 
near McKonkey's Ferry, ready to pass as soon as it grew dark, in 
the hope of being all on the other side by twelve o'clock. 
Washington repaired to the ground accompanied by Generals 
Greene, Sullivan, Mercer, Stephen, and Lord Stirling. Greene 
was full of ardor for the enterprise ; eager, no doubt, to wipe out 
the recollection of Fort Washington. It was, indeed, an anxious 
moment for all. Wilkinson had returned from Philadelphia, and 
brought a letter from Gates to Washington. There was some snow 
on the ground, and he had traced the march of the troops for the 
last few miles by the blood from the feet of those whose shoes were 
broken. Being directed to Washington's quarters, he found him, 
he says, alone, with his whip in his hand, prepared to mount his 
horse. " When I presented the letter of Gen. Gates to him, before 
receiving it, he exclaimed with solemnity, — ' What a time is this to 
hand me letters ! ' I answered that I had been charged with it by- 
Gen. Gates. 'By Gen. Gates! Where is he?' 'I left him this 
morning in Philadelphia.* • What was he doing there?' 'I under- 
stood him that he was on his way to Congress.* He earnestly 
repeated, 'On his way to Congress!' then broke the seal, and I 
made my bow, and joined Gen. St. Clair on the bank of the river." 
Boats being in readiness, the troops began to cross about sunset. 
The weather was intensely cold ; the wind was high, the current 
strong, and the river full of floating ice. Col. Glover, with his 
amphibious regiment of Marblehead fishermen, was in advance ; 
the same who had navigated the army across the Sound, in its 
retreat from Brooklyn on Long Island, to New York. They were 
men accustomed to battle with the elements, yet with all their skill 
and experience, the crossing was difficult and perilous. Washing- 
ton, who had crossed with the troops, stood anxiously, yet padently, 
on the eastern bank, while one precious hour after another elapsed, 
until the transportation of the artillery should be effected. The 
night was dark and tempestuous, the drifting ice drove the boats 
out of their course, and threatened them with destruction. Col. 
Knox, who attended to the crossing of the artillery, assisted with 
his labors, but still more with his "stentorian lungs," giving orders 
and directions. It was three o'clock before the artillery was 
landed, and nearly four before the troops took up their line of 
march. Trenton was nine miles distant ; and not to be reached 
before daylight. To surprise it, therefore, was out of the question. 
There was no making a retreat without being discovered, and 
harassed in repassing the river. Besides, the troops from the other 
points might have crossed, and cooperation was essential to their 
safety. Washington resolved to push forward, and trust to 
Providence. He formed the troops into two columns. The first 
he led himself, accompanied by Greene, Stirling, Mercer, and 
Stephen ; it was to make a circuit by the upper or Pennington road, 



286 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

to the north of Trenton. The other led by Sullivan, and including 
the brigade of St. Clair, was to take the lower river road, leading 
to the west end of the town. Sulhvan's column was to halt a few 
moments at a cross-road leading to Howland's Ferry, to give 
Washington's column time to effect its circuit, so that the attack 
might be simultaneous. On arriving at Trenton, they were to 
force the outer guards, and push directly into the town before the 
enemy had time to form. — The garrison and its unwary com- 
mander slept in fancied security, at the very time that Washing- 
ton and his troops were making their toilsome way across the 
Delaware. How perilous would have been their situation had their 
enemy been more vigilant ! It began to hail and snow as the troops 
commenced their march, and increased in violence as they 
advanced, the storm driving the sleet in their faces. So bitter was 
the cold that two of the men were frozen to death that night. The 
day dawned by the time Sullivan halted at the cross-road. It was 
discovered that the storm had rendered many of the muskets wet 
and useless. "What is to be done?" inquired SuUivan of St. 
Clair. "You have nothing for it but to push on, and use the 
bayonet," was the reply. While some of the soldiers were 
endeavoring to clear their muskets, and squibbing off priming, 
Sullivan dispatched an officer to apprise the commander-in-chief 
of the condition of their arms. He came back half-dismayed by 
an indignant burst of Washington, who ordered him to return 
instantly and tell Sullivan to "advance and charge." It was 
about eight o'clock when Washington's column arrived in the 
vicinity of the village. The storm, which had rendered the march 
intolerable, had kept every one within doors, and the snow had 
deadened the tread of the troops and the rumbling of the artillery. 
As they approached the village, Washington, who was in front, 
came to a man that was chopping wood by the road-side, and 
inquired, "Which way is the Hessian picket? " " I don't know," 
was the surly reply. "You may tell," said Capt. Forest of the 
artillery, "for that is General Washington." The aspect of the 
man changed in an instant. Raising his hands to heaven, "God 
bless and prosper you ! " cried he. "The picket is in that house, 
and the sentry stands near that tree." The advance guard was 
led by a brave young officer, Capt. William A. Washington, 
seconded by Lieut. James Monroe (in after years President of the 
United States). They received orders to dislodge the picket. By 
this time the American artillery was unlimbered ; Washington kept 
beside it, and the column proceeded. The report of fire-arms told 
that Sullivan was at the lower end of the town. Col. Stark led 
his advance guard in gallant style. The attacks, as concerted, 
w^ere simultaneous. The outposts were driven in ; they retreated, 
firing from behind houses. The Hessian drums beat to arms ; the 
trumpets of the light-horse sounded the alarm ; the whole place 
was in an uproar. Some of the enemy made a wild and undirected 
fire from the windows of their quarters ; others rushed forth in 
disorder, and attempted to form in the main street, while dragoons 
hastily mounted, and galloping about, added to the confusion. 



1776.] THE HESSIANS SURRENDER. 2S7 

Washington advanced with his cohmin to the head of King street ; 
riding beside Capt. Forest of the artillery. When Forest's battery 
of six guns was opened the general kept on the left and advanced 
with it, giving directions to the fire. His position was an exposed 
one, and he was repeatedly entreated to fall back ; but all such 
entreaties were useless, when once he became heated in action. The 
enemy were training a couple of cannon in the main street to form a 
battery, which might have given the Americans a serious check ; 
but Capt. Washington and Lieut. Monroe, with apart of the advance 
guard, rushed forward, drove the artillerists from their guns, and 
took the two pieces when on the point of being fired. Both of 
these officers were wounded ; the captain in tl^ wrist, the lieutenant 
in the shoulder. While Washington advanced on the north of the 
town, Sullivan approached on the west, and detached Stark to 
press on the lower or south end of the town. The British light- 
horse, and about five hundred Hessians and chasseurs, had been 
quartered in the lower part of the town. Seeing Washington's 
column pressing in front, and hearing Stark thundering in their 
rear, they took headlong flight by the bridge across the Assunpink. 
and so along the banks of the Delaware toward Count Donop's 
encampment at Bordentown. Colonel Rahl led his grenadiers 
bravely but rashly on, when, in the midst of his career, he received 
a fatal wound from a musket ball, and fell from his horse. His 
men, left without their chief, were struck with dismay ; heedless 
of the orders of the second in command, they retreated by the 
right up the banks of the Assunpink, intending to escape to Prince- 
ton. Washington saw their design, and threw Hand's corps of 
Pennsylvania riflemen in their way ; while a body of Virginia 
troops gained their left. Brought to a stand, and perfectly 
bewildered, Washington thought they were forming in order of 
battle, and ordered a discharge of canister shot. " Sir, they have 
struck," exclaimed Forest. "Struck!" echoed the general. 
"Yes, sir, their colors are down." "So they are!" replied 
Washington, and spurred in that direction, followed by Forest and 
his whole command. The men grounded their arms and sur- 
rendered at discretion; "but had not Col. Rahl been severely 
wounded," remarks his loyal corporal, "we would never have been 
taken alive ! " The skirmishing had now ceased in every direction. 
Major Wilkinson, who was with the lower column, was sent to the 
commander-in-chief for orders. He rode up, he says, at the 
moment that Col. Rahl, supported by a file of sergeants, was 
presenting his sword. "On my approach," continues he, "the 
commander-in-chief took me by the hand, and observed, 'Major 
Wilkinson, this is a glorious day for our country !' his countenance 
beaming with complacency ; while the unfortunate Rahl, who the 
day before would not have changed fortunes with him, now pale, 
bleeding, and covered with blood, in broken accents seemed to 
implore those attentions which the victor was well disposed to 
bestow on him." He was conveyed with great care to his quarters, 
which were in the house of a kind and respectable Quaker family. 
The number of prisoners taken in this affair was nearly one 



288 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

thousand, of which thirty-two were officers. The veteran Major 
Von Dechow, who had urged in vain the throwing up of breast- 
works, received a mortal wound, of which he died in Trenton. 
Washington's triumph, however, was impaired by the failure of the 
two simultaneous attacks. Gen. Ewing, who was to have crossed 
before day at Trenton Ferry, and taken possession of the bridge 
leading out of the town, over which the light-horse and Hessians 
retreated, was prevented by the quantity of ice in the river. 
Cadwalader was hindered by the same obstacle. He got part of 
his troops over, but found it impossible to embark his cannon, and 
was obliged, therefore, to return to the Pennsylvania side of the 
river. Had he and Ewing crossed, Donop's quarters would have 
been beaten up, and the fugitives from Trenton intercepted. By 
the failure of this part of his plan, Washington had been exposed 
to the most imminent hazard. The force with which he had crossed, 
twenty-four hundred men, raw troops, was not enough to cope with 
the veteran garrison, had it been properly on its guard ; and then 
there were the troops under Donop at hand to cooperate with it. 
Nothing saved him but the utter panic of the enemy ; their want 
of proper alarm places, and their exaggerated idea of his forces. 
Even now that the place was in his possession he dared not linger in 
it. There was a superior force under Donop below him, and a 
strong battalion of infantry at Princeton. His own troops w^erc 
exhausted by the operations of the night and morning in cold, rain, 
snow and storm. They had to guard about a thousand prisoners, 
taken in action or found concealed in houses ; there was little 
prospect of succor, owing to the season and the state of the river. 
Washington gave up, therefore, all idea of immediately pursuing 
the enemy or keeping possession of Trenton, and determined to 
recross the Delaware with his prisoners and captured artillery. 
Understanding that the brave but unfortunate Rahl was in a dying 
state, he paid him a visit before leaving Trenton, accompanied by 
Gen. Greene. They found him at his quarters in the house of a 
Quaker family. Their visit and the respectful consideration and 
unaffected sympathy manifested by them, evidently soothed the 
feelings of the unfortunate soldier ; now stripped of his late won 
laurels, and resigned to die rather than outHve his honor. The 
Hessian prisoners were conveyed across the Delaware by Johnson's 
Ferry into Pennsylvania ; the private soldiers were marched off 
immediately to Newtown ; the officers, twenty-three in number, 
remained in a small chamber in the Ferry House, where, according 
to their own account, they passed a dismal night ; sore at heart 
that their recent triumphs at White Plains and Fort Washington 
should be so suddenly eclipsed. On the following morning they 
were conducted to Newtown, where the officers were quartered in 
inns and private houses, the soldiers in the church and jail. The 
officers paid a visit to Lord Stirling, whom some of them had known 
from his being captured at Long Island, He received them with 
great kindness. " Your general, Van Heister," said he, "treated 
me like a brother when I w^as a prisoner, and so, gentlemen, will 
you be treated by me." "We had scarce seated ourselves," 



1776.] GENERAL HOWE ASTONISHED. 289 

continues Lieut. Piel, "when a long, meager, dark-looking man, 
whom we took for the parson of the place, stepped forth and held 
a discourse in German, in which he endeavored to set forth the 
justice of the American side in this war. He told us he was a 
Hanoverian born ; called the king of England nothing but the 
Elector of Hanover, and spoke of him so contemptuously that his 
garrulity became intolerable. We answered that we had not come 
to America to inquire which party was in the right ; but to fight for 
the king." The Hessian prisoners were subsequendy transferred 
from place to place, until they reached Winchester in the interior 
of Virginia. Wherever they arrived, people thronged from far and 
near to see these terrible beings of whom they had received such 
formidable accounts ; and were surprised and disappointed to find 
them looking hke other men. At first they had to endure the 
hootings and revilings of the multitude, for having hired themselves 
out to the trade of blood ; and they especially speak of the 
scoldings they received from old women in the villages, who 
upbraided them for coming to rob them of their liberty. "At 
length," writes the corporal in his journal, " General Washington 
had written notices put up in town and country, that we were 
innocent of this war and had joined in it not of our free will, but 
through compulsion. We should, therefore, be treated not as 
enemies, but friends. From this time," adds he, "things went 
better with us. Every day came many out of the towns, old and 
young, rich and poor, and brought us provisions, and treated us 
with kindness and humanity." — General Howe was taking his 
ease in winter quarters at New York, waiting for the freezing of the 
Delaware to pursup his triumphant march to Philadelphia, when 
tidings were brought him of the surprise and capture of the 
Hessians at Trenton. "That these old established regiments of a 
people who made war their profession, should lay down their arms 
to a ragged and undisciplined militia, and that with scarcely any 
loss on either side," was a matter of amazement. He instantly 
stopped Lord CornwalUs, who was on the 'point of embarking for 
England, and sent him back in all haste to resume the command 
in the Jerseys. The ice in the Delaware impeded the crossing of 
the American troops, and gave the British time to draw in their 
scattered cantonments and assemble their whole force at Princeton. 
While his troops were yet crossing, Washington sent out Col. Reed 
to reconnoitre the position and movementsof the enemy and obtain 
information. Emerging from a wood almost within view of 
Princeton, they caught sight, from a rising ground, of two or three 
red coats passing from time to time from a barn to a dwelling 
house. Here must be an outpost. Keeping the barn in a hne with 
the house so as to cover their approach, they dashed up to the 
latter without being discovered, and surrounded it. Twelve 
British dragoons were within, who, though well armed, were so 
panic-stricken that they surrendered without making a defence. 
Col. Reed and his six cavaliers returned in triumph to headquarters. 
Important information was obtained from their prisoners. Lord 
Cornwallis had joined Gen. Grant the day before at Princeton, with 



290 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

a reinforcement of chosen troops. They had now seven or eight 
thousand men, and were pressing wagons for a march upon 
Trenton. The situation of Washington was growing critical. The 
enemy were beginning to advance their large pickets toward 
Trenton. Everything indicated an approaching attack. The force 
with him was small ; to retreat across the river would destroy the 
dawn of hope awakened in the bosoms of the Jersey militia by the 
late exploit; but to make a stand without reinforcements was 
impossible. In this emergency, he called to his aid Gen. 
Cadwalader from Crosswicks, and Gen. Mifflin from Bordentown, 
with their collective forces, amounting to about three thousand six 
hundred men. They promptly answered to his call, and marching 
in the night, joined him on the 1st of January. He chose a position 
for his mam body on the east side of the Assunpink. There was 
a narrow stone bridge across it, where the water was very deep ; 
the same bridge over which part of Rahl's brigade had escaped in 
the recent affair. He planted his artillery so as to command the 
bridge and the fords. His advance guard stationed about three 
miles off in a wood, having in front a stream called Shabbakong 
Creek. Early on the morning of the 2d, came certain word that 
Cornwallis was approaching with all his force. Strong parties 
were sent out under Gen. Greene, who skirmished with the enemy 
and harassed them in their advance. By twelve o'clock they 
reached the Shabbakong. Then crossing it, and moving forward 
with rapidity, they drove the advance guard out of the woods, and 
pushed on until they reached a high ground near the town. Here 
Hand's corps of several battalions was drawn up, and held them 
for a time in check. It was nearly sunset before Cornwallis with 
the head of his army entered Trenton. His rear-guard under Gen. 
Leslie rested at Maiden Head, about six miles distant, and nearly 
half way between Trenton and Princeton. Forming his troops 
into columns, he now made repeated attempts to cross the Assunpink 
at the bridge and the fords, but was as often repulsed by the 
artillery. For a part of the time Washington, mounted on a white 
horse, stationed himself at the south end of the bridge, issuing his 
orders. Each time the enemy was repulsed there was a shout 
along the American lines. At length they drew off, came to a halt, 
and lighted their camp fires. The Americans did the same, using 
the neighboring fences for the purpose. Sir William Erskine, who 
was with Cornwallis, urged him it is said, to attack Washington 
that evening in his camp ; but his lordship declined ; he felt sure 
of the game which had so often escaped him ; and he was willing 
to give his wearied troops a night's repose to prepare them for the 
closing struggle. A cannonade was kept up on both sides until 
dark ; but with little damage to the Americans. It was the most 
gloomy and anxious night that had yet closed in on the American 
army, throughout its series of perils and disasters ; for there was no 
concealing the impending danger. But what must have been the 
feehngs of the commander-in-chief, as he anxiously patrolled his 
camp, and considered his desperate position ? A small stream, 
fordable in several places, was all that separated his raw, 



177;-] THE AMERICAN FABIVS STRIKES AGAIN, 291 

inexperienced army, from an enemy vastly superior in numbers 
and discipline, and stung to action by the mortification of a late 
defeat. A general action with them must be ruinous ; but how 
was he to retreat? In this darkest of moments a gleam of hope 
flashed upon his mind ; a bold expedient suggested itself. Almost 
the whole of the enemy's force must by this time be drawn out of 
Princeton, and advancing by detachments toward Trenton, while 
their baggage and principal stores must remain weakly guarded at 
Brunswick. Was it not possible by a rapid night-march along the 
Quaker road, a different road from that on which Gen. Leslie with 
the rear-guard was resting, to get past that force undiscovered, 
come by surprise upon those left at Princeton, capture or destroy 
what stores were left there, and then push on to Brunswick? This 
would save the army from being cut off; would avoid the appear- 
ance of a defeat; and might draw the enemy away from Trenton. 
Such was the plan which Washington revolved in his mind on the 
gloomy banks of the Assunpink, and which he laid before ,his 
ofificers in a council of war, held after nightfall, at the quarters of 
General Mercer. It met with instant concurrence, being of that 
hardy, adventurous kind, which seems congenial with the Ameri- 
can character. One formidable difficulty presented itself. The 
weather was unusually mild ; there was a thaw, by which the roads 
might be rendered deep and miry, and almost impassable. 
Fortunately, or rather providentially, as Washington was prone to 
consider it, the wind veered to the north in the course of the 
evening; the weather became intensely cold, and in two hours the 
roads were once more hard and frost-bound. In the meantime, 
the baggage of the army was silently removed to BurUngton, and 
every other preparation was made for a rapid march. To deceive 
the enemy, men were employed to dig trenches near the bridge 
within hearing of the British sentries, with orders to continue 
noisily at work until daybreak; others were to go the rounds; 
relieve guards at the bridge and fords ; keep up the camp fires, 
and maintain all the appearance of a regular encampment. At 
daybreak they were to hasten after the army. In the dead of the 
night, the army drew quietly out of the encampment and began its 
march. Gen. Mercer, mounted on a favorite gray horse, was in 
the advance with the remnant of his flying camp, now but about 
three hundred and fifty men, principally relics of the brave Dela- 
ware and Maryland regiments, with some of the Pennsylvania 
militia. The main body followed, under Washington's immediate 
command. The Quaker road was a complete roundabout, joining 
the main road about two miles from Princeton, where Washington 
expected to arrive before daybreak. The road, however, was new 
and rugged ; cut through woods, where the stumps of trees broke 
the wheels of some of the baggage trains, and retarded the march 
of the troops ; so that it was near sunrise of a bright, frosty 
morning, when Washington reached the bridge over Stony Brook, 
a'oout three miles from Princeton. After crossing the bridge, he 
led his troops along the bank of the brook to the edge of a wood, 
where a by-road led off on the right through low grounds. By this 



292 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

road Washington defiled with the main body, ordering Mercer to 
continue along the brook with his brigade, until he should arrive 
at the main road, M'here he was to secure, and, if possible, destroy 
a bridge over which it passes ; so as to intercept any fugitives from 
Princeton, and check any retrograde movements of the British 
troops which might have advanced toward Trenton. Three 
regiments, the 17th, 40th, and 55th, with three troops of dragoons, 
had been quartered all night in Princeton, under marching orders 
to join Lord Cornwallis in the morning. The 17th regiment, under 
Col. Mawhood, was already on the march ; the 55th regiment was 
preparing to follow. Mawhood had crossed the bridge by which 
the old or main road to Trenton passes over Stony Brook, and was 
proceeding through a wood beyond, when, as he attained the 
summit of a hill about sunrise, the glittering of arms betrayed to 
him the movement of Mercer's troops to the left, who were filing 
along the Quaker road to secure the bridge, as they had been 
ordered. The woods prevented him from seeing their number. 
He supposed them to be some broken portion of the American 
army flying before Lord Cornwallis. With this idea, he faced 
about and made a retrograde movement, to intercept them or hold 
them in check ; while messengers spurred off at all speed, to 
hasten forward the regiments still lingering at Princeton, so as 
completely to surround them. The woods concealed him until he 
had recrossed the bridge of Stony Brook, when he came in full 
sight of the van of Mercer's brigade. Both parties pushed to get 
possession of a rising ground on the right near the house of a Mr. 
Clark, of the peaceful Society of Friends. The Americans being 
nearest, reached it first, and formed behind a hedge fence which 
extended along a slope in front of the house; whence, being 
chiefly armed with rifles, they opened a destructive fire. It was 
returned with great spirit by the enemy. At the first discharge 
Mercer was dismounted, *'his gallant gray" being crippled by a 
musket ball in the leg. One of his colonels, also, was mortally 
wounded and carried to the rear. Availing themselves of the con- 
fusion thus occasioned, the British charged witli the bayonet; the 
American riflemen having no weapon of the kind, were thrown 
into disorder and retreated. Mercer, who was on foot, endeavored 
to rally them, when a blow from the butt end of a musket felled 
him to the ground. He rose and defended himself with his sword, 
but was surrounded, bayoneted repeatedly, and left for dead. 
Mawhood pursued the broken and retreating troops to the brow of 
the rising ground, on which Clark's house was situated, when he 
beheld a large force emerging from a wood and advancing to the 
rescue. It was a body of Pennsylvania militia, which Washington, 
on hearing the firing, had detached to the support of Mercer. 
Mawhood instantly ceased pursuit, drew up his artillery, and by a 
heavy discharge brought the militia to a stand. At this moment 
Washington himself arrived at the scene of action, having 
galloped from the by-road in advance of his troops. From a 
rising ground he beheld Mercer's troops retreating in confusion, 
and the detachment of militia checked by Mawhood* s artillery. 



1777.] THE BRITISH DEFEATED. 293 

Everything was at peril. Putting spurs to his horse he dashed 
past the hesitating miUtia, waving his hat and cheering them on. 
His commanding figure and white horse made him a conspicuous 
object for the enemy's marksmen ; but he heeded it not. Galloping 
forward under the fire of Mawhood's battery, he called upon 
Mercer's broken brigade. The Pennsylvanians rallied at the sound 
of his voice, and caught fire from his example. At the same time 
the 7th Virginia regiment emerged from the wood, and moved 
forward with loud cheers, while a fire of grape-shot was opened by 
Capt. Moulder of the American artillery, from the brow of a 
ridge to the south. Col. Mawhood, who a moment before had 
thought his triumph secure, found himself assailed on every side, 
and separated from the other British regiments. He fought, 
however, with great bravery, and for a short time the action was 
desperate. Washington was in the midst of it; equally en- 
dangered by the random fire of his own men, and the artillery 
and musketry of the enemy. His aide-de-camp. Col. Fitzgerald, 
a young and ardent Irishman, losing sight of him in the heat of 
the fight when enveloped in dust and smoke, dropped the bridle 
on the neck of his horse and drew his hat over his eyes; giving 
him up for lost. When he saw him, however, emerge from the 
cloud, waving his hat, and beheld the enemy giving way, he spurred 
up to his side. " Thank God," cried he, "your excellency is safe ! " 
"Away, my dear colonel, and bring up the troops," was the 
reply; "the day is our own!" It was one of those occasions in 
which the latent fire of Washington's character blazed forth. 
Mawhood, by this time, had forced his way, at the point of the 
• bayonet, through gathering foes, though with heavy loss, back to 
the main road, and was in full retreat toward Trenton to join 
Cornwallis. Washington detached Major Kelly with a party of 
Pennsylvania troops, to destroy the bridge at Stony Brook, over 
which Mawhood had retreated, so as to impede the advance of 
Gen. Leslie from Maiden Head. In the meantime the 55th 
regiment, which had been on the left and nearer Princeton, had 
been encountered by the American advance-guard under Gen. St. 
Clair, and after some sharp fighting in a ravine had given way, 
and was retreating across fields and along a by-road to Brunswick. 
The remaining regiment, the 40th, had not been able to come up in 
time for the action ; a part of it fled toward Brunswick ; the residue 
took refuge in the college at Princeton, recently occupied by them 
as barracks. Artillery was now brought to bear on the college, 
and a few shot compelled those within to surrender. In this brief 
but brilliant action, about one hundred of the British were left dead 
on the field, and nearly three hundred taken prisoners, fourteen 
of whom were officers. Among the slain was Captain Leslie, son 
of the Earl of Leven. His death was greatly lamented by his 
captured companions. The loss of the Americans was about twenty- 
five or thirty men and several officers. Among the latter was Col. 
Haslet, who had distinguished himself throughout the campaign, 
by being among the foremost in services of danger. He was 
indeed a gallant officer, and gallantly seconded by his Delaware 



294 Z//r£' OF WASHINGTON, 

troops. A greater loss was that of Gen. Mercer. He was said to 
be either dead or dying, in the house of Mr. Clark, whither he had 
been conveyed by his aide-de-camp, Major Armstrong, who found 
him, after the retreat of Mawhood's troops, lying on the field 
gashed with several wounds, and insensible from cold and loss of 
blood, Washington would have ridden back from Princeton to 
visit him, and have him conveyed to a place of greater security ; 
but was assured, that, if alive, he was too desperately wounded to 
bear removal ; in the meantime he was in good hands, being 
faithfully attended to by his aide-de-camp. Major Armstrong, 
and treated with the utmost care and kindness by Mr. Clark's 
family. Washington was called away by the exigencies of his 
command, having to pursue the routed regiments which were 
making a headlong retreat to Brunswick. In this pursuit he took 
the lead at the head of a detachment of cavalry. At Kingston, 
however, three miles to the north-east of Princeton, he pulled up, 
restrained his ardor, and held a council of war on horseback. 
Should he keep on to Brunswick or not ? The capture of the 
British stores and baggage would make his triumph complete ; but, 
on the other hand, his troops were excessively fatigued by their 
rapid march all night and hard fight in the morning. All of them 
had been one night without sleep, and some of them two, and 
many were half-starved. They were without blankets, thinly clad, 
some of them barefooted, and this in freezing weather. Cornwallis 
would be upon them before they could reach Brunswick. His 
rear-guard, under Gen. Leslie, had been quartered about six miles 
from Princeton, and the retreating troops must have roused them. 
Under these considerations, it was determined to- discontinue the 
pursuit and push for Morristown. There they would be in a 
mountainous country, heavily wooded, in an abundant neighbor- 
hood, and on the flank of the enemy, with various defiles by which 
they might change their position according to his movements. 
Filing off to the left, therefore, from Kingston, and breaking down 
the bridge behind him, Washington took the narrow road by Rocky 
Hill to Pluckamin. His troops were so exhausted, that many in 
the course of the march would lie dovvn in the woods on the frozen 
ground and fall asleep, and were with difficulty roused and cheered 
forward. At Pluckamin he halted for a time, to allow them a httle 
repose and refreshment. — Cornwallis had retired to rest at Trenton 
with the sportman* s vaunt that he would ' ' bag the fox i n the morning. ' ' 
Nothing could surpass his surprise and chagrin, when at daybreak 
the expiring watch-fires and deserted camp of the Americans told 
him that the prize had once more evaded his grasp; that the 
general whose military skill he had decried had outgeneraled him. 
By sunrise there was the booming of cannon, like the rumbling of 
distant thunder in the direction of Princeton. The idea flashed 
upon him that Washington had not merely escaped but was about 
to make a dash at the British magazines at Brunswick. Alarmed 
for the safety of his military stores his lordship forthwith broke up 
his camp and made a rapid march toward Princeton. As he 
arrived in sight of the bridge over Stony Brook he beheld Major 



1777] CO RNWALLIS PANIC-STRUCK, 295 

Kelly and his party busy in its destruction, A distant discharge 
of round shot from his field-pieces drove them away, but the bridge 
was already broken. It would take time to repair it for the passage 
of the artillery ; so Cornwallis in his impatience urged his troops 
breast-high through the turbulent and icy stream and again pushed 
forward. He was brought to a stand by the discharge of a thirty - 
two pounder from a distant breastwork. Supposing the Americans 
to be there in force, and prepared to make resistance, he sent out 
some horsemen to reconnoiter, and advanced to storm the battery. 
There was no one there. The thirty-two pounder had been left 
behind by the Americans, as too unwieldy, and a match had been 
applied to it by some lingerer of Washington's rear-guard. 
Without further delay Cornwallis hurried forward, eager to save 
his magazines. Crossing the bridge at Kingston, he kept on along 
the Brunswick road. Washington had got far in the advance, during 
the delays caused by the broken bridge at Stony Brook, and the 
discharge of the thirty-two pounder; and the alteration of his 
course at Kingston had carried him completely out of the way of 
Cornwallis. His lordship reached Brunswick toward evening, and 
endeavored to console himself, by the safety of the military stores, 
for being so completely foiled and outmaneuvered. 

Washington, in the mean-time, was ^11 on the alert ; the lion 
part of his nature was aroused ; and while his weary troops were 
in a manner panting upon the ground around him, he was dis- 
patching missives and calhng out aid to enable him to follow up 
his successes. In a letter to Putnam, written from Pluckamin dur- 
ing the halt, he says: "The enemy appear to be panic-struck. I 
am in hopes of driving them out of the Jerseys." He continued 
forward to Morristown, where at length he came to a halt from his 
incessant and harassing marchings. There he learned that Gen, 
Mercer was still alive. He immediately sent his own nephew, 
Major George Lewis, under the protection of a flag, to attend 
upon him. Mercer had indeed been kindly nursed by a daughter 
of Mr. Clark and a negro woman, who had not been frightened 
from their home by the storm of battle which raged around it. At 
the time that the troops of Cornwallis approached, Major Arm- 
strong was binding up Mercer's wounds. The latter insisted on 
his leaving him in the kind hands of Mr. Clark's household, and 
rejoining the army. Lewis found him languishing in great pain ; he 
had been treated with respect by the enemy, and great tenderness by 
the benevolent family who had sheltered him. He expired in the 
arms of Major Lewis on the 12th of January, in the fifty-sixth year 
of his age. Dr. Benjamin Rush, afterward celebrated as a physi- 
cian, was with him when he died. He was upright, intelligent and 
brave ; esteemed as a soldier and beloved as a man, and by none 
more so than by Washington. His career as a general had been 
brief; but long enough to secure him a lasting renow-n. His name 
remains one of the consecrated names of the Revolution. 

Washington, having received reinforcements of militia, contin- 
ued, with his scanty army, to carry on his system of annoyance. 
The situation of CornwaUis, who, but a short time before, traversed 



296 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the Jerseys so triumphantly, became daily more and more irk- 
some. Spies were in his camp, to give notice of every movement, 
and foes without to take advantage of it ; so that not a foraging 
party could sally forth without being waylaid. By degrees he 
drew in his troops which were posted about the country, and col- 
lected them at New Brunswick and Amboy, so as to have a com- 
munication by water w^ith New York, whence he was now com- 
pelled to draw nearly all his supplies; "presenting," to use the 
words of Hamilton, "the extraordinary spectacle of a powerful 
army, straitened within narrow limits by the phantom of a military 
force, and never permitted to transgress those limits with impunity." 
In fact, the recent operations in the Jerseys had suddenly changed 
the whole aspect of the war, and given a triumphant close to what 
had been a disastrous campaign. The troops, which for months 
had been driven from post to post, apparently an undisciplined 
rabble, had all at once turned upon their pursuers, and astounded 
them by brilliant stratagems and daring exploits. The comman- 
der, whose cautious policy had been sneered at by enemies, and 
regarded with impatience by misjudging friends, had all at once 
shown that he possessed enterprise, as well as circumspection, 
energy as well as endurance, and that beneath his wary coldness 
lurked a fire to break forth at the proper moment. This year's 
campaign, the most critical one of the war, and especially the part of 
it which occurred in the Jerseys, was the ordeal that made his great 
qualities fully appreciated by his countrymen, and gained for him 
from the statesmen and generals of Europe the appellation of the 
American Fabius. 

The news of Washington's recrossing the Delaware and of his 
subsequent achievements in the Jerseys had not reached London 
on the 9th of January. "The affairs of America seem to be draw- 
ing to a crisis," writes Edmund Burke. "The Howes are at this 
time in possession of, or able to awe the whole middle coast of 
America, from Delaware to the western boundary of Massachu- 
setts Bay ; the naval barrier on the side of Canada is broken. A 
great tract is open for the supply of the troops ; the river Hudson 
opens away into the heart of the provinces, and nothing can, in all 
probability, prevent an early and offensive campaign. What the 
Americans have done is, in their circumstances, truly astonishing ; 
it is indeed infinitely more than I expected from them. But, hav- 
ing done so much for some short time, I began to entertain an 
opinion that they might do more." At the time when this was writ- 
ten, the Howes had learned to their mortification, that "the mere 
running through a province, is not subduing it." The British 
commanders had been outgeneraled, attacked and defeated. 
They had nearly been driven out of the Jerseys, and were now 
hemmed in and held in check by Washington and his handful of 
men castled among the heights of Morristown. So far from hold- 
ing possession of the territory they had so recently overrun, they 
were fain to ask safe conduct across it for a convoy to their soldiers 
captured in battle. It must have been a severe trial to the pride 
of Cornwallis, when he had to inquire by letter of Washington, 



I777J BRITISH ARMY STRAITENED. 297 

whether money and stores could be sent to the Hessians captured 
at Trenton, and a surgeon and medicines to the wounded at Prince- 
ton ; and Washington's reply must have conveyed a reproof still 
more mortifying : No molestation, he assured his lordship, would 
be offered to the convoy by any part of the regular army under 
his command ; but " he could not ansioerfor the militia, who were 
resorting to arms in 7nost parts of the State, and were excessively 
exasperated at the treat>nent they had met with from both Hes- 
sian and British troops.'* In fact, the conduct of the enemy had 
roused the whole country against them. The proclamations and 
printed protections of the British commanders, on the faith of which 
the inhabitants in general had staid at home, and forebore to take 
up arms, had proved of no avail. The Hessians could not or 
would not understand them, but plundered friend and foe alike. 
The British soldiery often followed their example, and the plun- 
derings of both were at times attended by those brutal outrages on 
the weaker sex, which inflame the dullest spirits to revenge. The 
whole State was thus roused against its invaders. In Washington's 
retreat of more than a hundred miles through the Jerseys, he had 
never been joined by more than one hundred of its inhabitants ; 
now sufferers of both parties rose as one man to avenge their per- 
sonal injuries. The late quiet yeomanry armed themselves, and 
scoured the country in small parties to sieze on stragglers, and the 
mihtia began to signalize themselves in voluntary skirmishes with 
regular troops. Morristown, where the main army was encamped, 
was well situated for the system of petty warfare whichWashington 
meditated, and induced him to remain there. It was protected by 
forests and rugged heights. All approach from the seaboard 
was rendered difficult and dangerous to a hostile force by a chain 
of sharp hills, extending from Pluckamin, by Boundbrook and 
Springfield, to the vicinity of the Passaic River, while various 
defiles in the rear afforded safer retreats into a fertile and well peo- 
pled region. It was nearly equidistant from Amboy, Newark, and 
Brunswick, the principal postsof the enemy ; so that any movement 
made from them could be met by a counter movement on his 
part ; while the forays and skirmishes by which he might harass 
them, would school and season his own troops. He had three 
faithful generals with him : Greene, his reliance on all occasions ; 
swarthy Sullivan, whose excitable temper and quick sensibilities 
he had sometimes to keep in cheek by friendly counsels and 
rebukes, but who w^as a good officer, and loyally attached to him ; 
and brave, genial, generous Knox, never so happy as when by his 
side. He had lately been advanced to the rank of brigadier at 
his recommendation, and commanded the artillery. Washington's 
headquarters at first were in what was called the Freemasons* 
Tavern, on the north side of the village green. His troops were 
encamped about the vicinity of the village, at first in tents, until 
they could build log huts for shelter against the winter's cold. 
The main encampment was near Bottle Hill, in a sheltered valley 
which was thickly wooded, and had abundant springs. It exten- 
ded south-easterly from Morristown ; and was called the Lowan- 

4 



298 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

tica Valley, from the Indian name of a beautiful limpid brook 
which ran through it, and lost itself in a great swamp. 

The enemy being now concentrated at New Brunswick and 
Amboy, Gen. Putnam was ordered by Washington to move from 
Crosswicks to Princeton, with the troops under his command. He 
was instructed to draw his forage as much as possible from the 
neighborhood of Brunswick, about eighteen miles off, thereby con- 
tributing to distress the enemy; and if compelled to leave Prince- 
ton, to retreat toward the mountains, so as to form a junction with 
the forces at Morristown. Cantonments were gradually formed 
between Princeton and the Highlands of the Hudson, which made 
the left flank of Washington's position, and where Gen. Heath had 
command. Gen. Philemon Dickinson, who commanded the New 
Jersey militia, was stationed on the west side of Millstone River, 
near Somerset court-house, one of the nearest posts to the enemy's 
camp at Brunswick. A British foraging party, of five or six hun- 
dred strong, sent out by Cornwallis with forty wagons and upward 
of a hundred draught horses, mostly of the English breed, having 
collected sheep and cattle about the country, were sacking a mill 
on the opposite side of the river, where a large quantity of flour was 
deposited. While thus employed, Dickinson set upon them with a 
force equal in number, but composed of raw militia and fifty Phil- 
adelphia riflemen. He dashed through the river, waist deep, with 
his men, and charged the enemy so suddenly and vigorously, that, 
though supported by three field-pieces, they gave way, left their 
convoy, and retreated so precipitately, that he made only nine 
prisoners. A number of killed and wounded were carried off by 
the fugitives on hght wagons. These exploits of the militia were 
noticed with high encomiums by Washington, while at the same 
time he was rigid in prohibiting and punishing the excesses into 
which men are apt to run when suddenly clothed with military 
power. 

To counteract the proclamation of the British commissioners, 
promising amnesty to all in rebellion who should, in a given time, 
return to their allegiance, Washington now issued a counter pro- 
clamation (Jan. 25th), commanding every person who had sub- 
scribed a declaration of fidelity to Great Britain, or taken an oath 
of allegiance, to repair within thirty days to headquarters, or 
the quarters of the nearest general officer of the Continental 
army or of the militia, and there take the oath of allegiance to 
the United States of America, and give up any protection, cer- 
tificate, or passport he might have received from the enemy; at 
the same time granting full liberty to all such as preferred the 
interest and protection of Great Britain to the freedom and happi- 
ness of their country, forthwith to withdraw themselves and fami- 
lies within the enemy's lines. All who should neglect or refuse to 
comply with this order were to be considered adherents to the 
crown, and treated as common enemies. 

The small-pox, which had been fatally prevalent in the preced- 
ing year, had again broken out, and Washington feared it might 
' spread through the whole army. He took advantage of the inter- 



1777-] CONTEST OF GENERALS AND ARMIES. 299 

val of comparative quiet to have his troops inoculated. Houses 
were set apart in various places as hospitals for inoculation, and a 
church was appropriated for the use of those who had taken the 
malady in the natural way. Among these the ravages were fright- 
ful. The traditions of the place and neighborhood give lamenta- 
ble pictures of the distress caused by this loathsome disease in the 
camp and in the villages, wherever it had not been parried by 
inoculation. "Washington," we are told, " was not an unmoved 
spectator of the griefs around him, and might be seen in Hanover 
and in Lowantica Valley, cheering the faith and inspiring the cour- 
age of his suffering men." It was this paternal care and sym- 
pathy which attached his troops personally to him. They saw that 
he regarded them, not with the eye of a general, but of a patriot, 
whose heart yearned toward them as countrymen suffering in one 
common cause. A striking contrast was offered throughout the 
winter and spring, between the rival commanders, Howe at New 
York, and Washington at Morristown. Howe was a soldier by 
profession. War, with him, was a career. The camp was, for 
the time, country and home. Easy and indolent by nature, of 
convivial and luxurious habits, and somewhat addicted to gaming, 
he found himself in good quarters at New York, and was in no 
hurry to leave them. The tories rallied around him. The British 
merchants residing there regarded him with profound devotioru 
His officers, too, many of them young men of rank and fortune, 
gave a gayety and brilliancy to the place ; and the wealthy royal- 
ists forgot in a round of dinners, balls and assemblies, the hysteri- 
cal alarms they had once experienced under the military sway of 
Lee. Washington, on the contrary, was a patriot soldier, grave, 
earnest, thoughtful, self-sacrificing. War, to him, was a painful 
remedy, hateful in itself, but adopted for a great national good. 
To the prosecution of it, all his pleasures, his comforts, his natural 
inclinations and private interests were sacrificed; and his chosen offi- 
cers were earnest and anxious hke himself, with their whole thoughts 
directed to the success of the magnanimous struggle in which chey 
were engaged. So, too, the armies were contrasted. The British 
troops, many of them, perchance, slightly metamorphosed from 
vagabonds into soldiers, all mere men of the sword, were well clad, 
well housed, and surrounded by all the conveniences of a thor- 
oughly appointed army with a " rebel country" to forage. The 
American troops for the most part were mere yeomanry, taken 
from their rural homes ; ill-sheltered, ill-clad, ill-fed and ill-paid, 
with nothing to reconcile them to their hardships but love for 
the soil they were defending, and the inspiring thought that it was 
their country. Washington, with paternal care, endeavored to 
protect them from the depraving influences of the camp. "Let 
vice and immorality of every kind be discouraged as much as 
possible in your brigade," writes he in a circular to his brigadier- 
generals ; " and, as a chaplain is allowed to each regiment, see 
that the men regularly attend divine worship. Gaming of every 
kind is expressly forbidden, as being the foundation of evil, and 
the cause of many a brave and gallant officer's ruin." 



300 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

A cartel for the exchange of prisoners had been a subject of 
negotiation previous to the affair of Trenton, without being adjusted. 
The British commanders were slow to recognize the claims to 
equality of those they considered rebels ; Washington was tena- 
cious in holding them up as patriots ennobled by their cause. 
Among the cases which came up for attention was that of Ethan 
Allen, the brave, but eccentric captor of Ticonderoga. His daring 
attempts in the "path of renown" had cost him a world of hard- 
ships. Thrown into irons as a felon ; threatened with a halter ; 
carried to England to be tried for treason ; confined in Pendennis 
Castle ; retransported to Halifax, and now a prisoner in New 
York. *' I have suffered everything short of death," writes he to 
the Assembly of his native State, Connecticut. He had, however, 
recovered health and suppleness of limb, and with them all his 
swelling spirit and swelHng rhetoric. "I am fired," writes he, 
•• with adequate indignation to revenge both my own and my 
country's wrongs. Provided you can hit upon some measure to 
procure my liberty, I will appropriate my remaining days, and 
freely hazard my life in the service of the colony, and maintaining 
the American Empire. I thought to have enrolled my name in 
the list of illustrious American heroes, but was nipped in the bud! " 
Honest Ethan Allen ! his name will ever stand enrolled on that 
list ; not illustrious, perhaps, but eminently popular. 

Lee was now reported to be in rigorous confinement in New 
York, and treated with harshness and indignity. The British pro- 
fessed to consider him a deserter, he having been a lieutenant-colo- 
nel in their service, although he alleged that he had resigned his 
commission before joining the American army. Two letters which 
he addressed to Gen. Howe, were returned to him unopened, 
inclosed in a cover directed to Lieut.-Col. Lee. On the 13th of 
January, Washington addressed the following letter to Sir William 
Howe. " I am directed by Congress to propose an exchange of 
five of the Hessian field-officers taken at Trenton for Major-Gen- 
eral Lee ; or if this proposal should not be accepted, to demand 
his liberty upon parole, within certain bounds, as has ever been 
granted to your officers in our custody. I give you warning that 
Major-General Lee is looked upon as an officer belonging to, and 
under the protection of the United Independent States of America, 
and that any violence you may commit upon his life and liberty, 
will be severely retaliated upon the lives or liberties of the British 
officers, or those of their foreign allies in our hands." In this let- 
ter he likewise adverted to the treatment of American prisoners in 
New York ; several who had recently been released having given 
the most shocking account of the barbarities they had experienced, 
"which their miserable, emaciated countenances confirmed." — " I 
would beg," added he, "that some certain rule of conduct toward 
prisoners may be settled ; and, if you are determined to make 
captivity as distressing as possible, let me know it, that we may be 
upon equal terms, for your conduct shall regulate mine." Sir 
WilHam, in reply, proposed to send an officer of rank to Washing- 
ton, to confer upon a mode of exchange and subsistence of prison- 



I 



1 777.] TREA TMENT OF AMERICAN PRISONERS, 301 

ers. This led to the appointment of two officers for the purpose ; 
Col. Walcott by Gen. Howe, and Col. Harrison, "the old secre- 
tary," by Washington. In the contemplated exchanges was that 
of one of the Hessian tield-officers for Col. Ethan Allen. 

Congress, in the meantime, had resorted to their threatened 
measure of retaliation. On the 20th of February, they had resolved 
that the Board of War be directed immediately to order the five 
Hessian field-officers and Lieut. -Col. Campbell into safe and close 
custody, ** it being the unalterable resolution of Congress to retal- 
iate on them the same punishment as may be inflicted on the per- 
son of Gen. Lee." The captive Americans who had been in the 
naval service were said to be confined, officers and men, in prison- 
ships, which, from their loathsome condition, and the horrors and 
sufferings of all kinds experienced on board of them, had acquired 
the appellation oifioating hells. Those who had been in the land 
service, were crowded into jails and dungeons like the vilest male- 
factors, and were represented as pining in cold, in filth, in hunger 
and nakedness. According to popular account, the prisoners con- 
fined on shipboard, and on shore, were perishing by hundreds. 
A statement made by a Capt. Gamble, recently confined onboard 
of a prison-ship, had especially roused the ire of Congress, and by 
their directions Washington wrote to Lord Howe on the subject of 
the "cruel treatment which our officers and men in the naval 
department, who are unhappy enough to fall into your hands, 
receive on board the prison-ships in the harbor of New York." " I 
will not suppose that you are privy to proceedings of so cruel and 
unjustifiable a nature; and I hope that the unhappy persons whose 
lot is captivity, may not in future have the miseries of cold, disease, 
and famine, added to their other misfortunes. My injured coun- 
trymen have long called upon me to endeavor to obtain a redress 
of their grievances, and I should think myself as culpable as those 
who inflict such severities upon them were I to continue silent." 
Lord Howe, in reply (Jan. 17), expressed himself surprised at the 
matter and language of Washington's letter "so different from the 
liberal vein of sentiment he had been habituated to expect on every 
occasion of personal intercourse or correspondence with him." 
He denied that prisoners were ill treated in his particular depart- 
ment (the naval). They had the same provisions in quality and 
quantity that were furnished to the seamen of his own ship, etc. The 
y^rsey Prison-ship is proverbial in our revolutionary histoiy ; and 
the bones of the unfortunate patriots who perished on board, form 
a monument on the Long Island shore. The horrors of the Sugar 
House converted into a prison, are traditional in New York ; and 
the brutal tyranny of Cunningham, the provost marshal, over men 
of worth confined in the common jail, for the sin of patriotism, has 
been handed down from generation to generation. That Lord 
Howe and Sir William were ignorant of the extent of these atroci- 
ties we really believe, but it was their duty to be well informed. 
War is, at best, a cruel trade, that habituates those who follow it 
to regard the sufferings of others with indifference. There is not 
a doubt, too, that a feeling of contumely deprived the patriot pris- 



302 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

oners of all sympathy in the early stages of the Revolulion. They 
were regarded as criminals rather than captives. The stigma of 
rebels seemed to take from them all the indulgences, scanty and 
miserable as they are, usually granted to prisoners of war. The 
British officers looked down with haughty contempt upon the 
American officers who had fallen into their hands. The British 
soldiery treated them with insolent scurrility. It seemed as if the 
very ties of consanguinity rendered their hostility more intolerant, 
for it was observed that American prisoners were better treated by 
the Hessians than by the British. It Avas not until our countrymen 
had made themselves formidable by their successes that they were 
treated, when prisoners, with common decency and humanity. 
The difficulties arising out of the case of Gen. Lee interrupted the 
operations with regard to the exchange of prisoners ; and gallant 
men, on both sides, suffered prolonged detention in consequence ; 
and among the number the brave, but ill-starred Ethan Allen. 
Events, however, had diminished Lee's importance in the eyes of 
the enemy ; he was no longer considered the American palladium. 
*' As the capture of the Hessians and the maneuvers against tlie 
British took place after the surprise of Gen. Lee," observes a Lon- 
don writer of the day, "we find that he is not the only efficient 
officer in the American service." 

Notwithstanding all Washington's exertions in behalf of the 
army under his immediate command, it continued to be deplora- 
bly in want of reinforcements, and it Avas necessary to maintain 
the utmost vigilance at all his posts to prevent his camp from being 
surprised. The designs of the enemy being mere matter of con- 
jecture, measures varied accordingly. As the season advanced, 
Washington Avas led to believe that Philadelphia Avould be their 
first object at the opening of the campaign, and that they would 
bring round all their troops from Canada by Avater to aid in the 
enterprise. On the i8th of March he dispatched Gen. Greene to 
Philadelphia, to lay before Congress such matters as he could not 
venture to communicate by letter. Greene had scarce departed 
when the enemy began to give signs of life. The delay in the 
arrival of artillery, more than his natural indolence, had kept Gen. 
Howe from formally taking the field ; he now made preparations 
for the next campaign by detaching troops to destroy the Ameri- 
can deposits of military stores. One of the chief of these was at 
Peekskill, where Washington had directed Heath to send troops 
from Massachusetts ; and which he thought of making a central 
point of assemblage. Howe terms it "the port of that rough and 
mountainous tract called the Manor of Courtlandt." Brig. -Gen. 
McDougall had the command of it in the absence of Gen. Heath, 
but his force did not exceed tAvo hundred and fifty men. As soon 
as the Hudson Avas clear of ice, a squadron of vessels of war and 
transports, Avith five hundred troops under Col. Bird, ascended 
the river. McDougall had intelligence of the intended attack, and 
Avhile the ships were making their Avay across the Tappan Sea and 
Haverstraw Bay, exerted himself to remove as much as possible 
of the provisions and stores to Forts Montgomery and Constitution 



1777] SCHUYLER AND GATES. 303 

ill the Highlands. On the morning of the 23d, the whole squadron 
came to anchor in Peekskill Bay ; and five hundred men landed in 
Lent's Cove, on the south side of the bay, whence they pushed 
forward with four light field-pieces drawn by sailors. On their 
approach, McDougalT set fire to the barracks and principal store- 
houses, and retreated about two miles to a strong post, command- 
ing the entrance to the Highlands, and the road to Continental 
Village, the place of the deposits. It was the post which had been 
noted by Washington in the preceding year, where a small force 
could make a stand, and hurl down masses of rock on their assail- 
ants. Hence McDougall sent an express to Lieut-Col. Marinus 
Willet, who had charge of Fort Constitution, to hasten to his 
assistance. The British, finding the wharf in flames where they 
had intended to embark their spoils, completed the conflagration, 
besides destroying several small craft laden with provisions. They 
kept possession of the place until the following day, when a scout- 
ing party, which had advanced toward the entrance of the High- 
lands, was encountered by Col. Marinus Willet with a detachment 
from Fort Constitution, and driven back to the main body after 
a sharp skiraiish, in which nine of the marauders were killed. 
Four more were slain on the banks of Canopas Creek as they were 
setting fire to some boats. The enemy were disappointed in the 
hope of carrying off a great deal of booty, and finding the country 
around was getting under arms, they contented themselves with 
the mischief they had done, and reembarked in the evening by 
moonlight, when the whole squadron swept down the Hudson. 

The question of command between Schuyler and Gates, when 
settled as we have shown by Congress, had caused no interruption 
to the harmony of intercourse between these generals, Schuyler 
directed the affairs of the department with energy and activity 
from his headquarters at Albany, where they had been fixed by 
Congress, while Gates, subordinate to him, commanded the post 
of Ticonderoga, The disappointment of an independent com- 
mand, however, still rankled in his mind, and was kept alive by the 
officious suggestions of meddling friends. In the course of the 
autumn, his hopes in this respect revived. Schuyler was again 
disgusted with the service. In the discharge of his various and 
harassing duties, he had been annoyed by sectional jealousies and 
ill will. His motives and measures had been maligned. The 
failures in Canada had been attributed to him, and he had repeat- 
edly entreated Congress to order an inquiry into the many charges 
made against him, "that he might not any longer be insulted." 
On the 14th of Sept. he actually offered his resignation of his com- 
mission as major-general, and of every other office and appoint- 
ment ; still claiming a court of inquiry on his conduct, and expres- 
sing his determination to ful'fill the duties of a good citizen, and 
promote the weal of his native country, but in some other capacity. 
"I trust," writes he, "that my successor, whoever he may be, 
will find that matters are as prosperously arranged in this depart- 
ment as the nature of the service will admit. I shall most readily 
giv« him any information and assistance in my power." 



304 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

The hopes of Gates, inspired by this profTfered resignation, were 
doomed to be again overclouded. Schuyler was informed by 
President Hancock, "that Congress, during the present state of 
affairs, could not consent to accept of his resignation ; but requested 
that he would continue in the command he held, and be assured 
that the aspersions thrown out by his enemies against his charac- 
ter had no influence upon the minds of the members of that House ; 
and that more effectually to put calumny to silence, they would at 
an early day appoint a committee to inquire fully into his conduct, 
which they trusted would establish his reputation in the opinion of 
all good men." 

The fame of the American struggle for independence was bring- 
ing foreign officers as candidates for admission into the patriot 
army, and causing great embarrassment to the commander-in- 
chief. "They seldom," writes Washington, "bring more than a 
commission and a passport ; which we know may belong to a bad 
as well as a good officer. Their ignorance of our language, and 
their inability to recruit men, are insurmountable obstacles to their 
being engrafted in our Continental battalions ; for our officers, who 
have raised their men, and have served through the war upon pay 
that has not hitherto borne their expenses, would be disgusted if 
foreigners were put over their head ; and I assure you, few or none 
of these gentlemen look lower than field-officers' commissions. 
Congress determined that no foreign officers should receive com- 
missions who were not well acquainted with the English language, 
and did not bring strong testimonials of their abilities ; that their 
commissions should bear date on the day of their being filled up by 
Washington. 

The gallant, generous-spirited, Thaddeus Kosciuszko, was a Pole, 
of an ancient and noble family of Lithuania, and had been educa- 
ted for the profession of arms at the military school at W^arsaw, 
and subsequently in France. Disappointed in a love affair with a 
beautiful lady of rank with whom he had attempted to elope, he 
had emigrated to this country, and came provided with a letter 
of introduction from Dr. Franldin to Washington. " What do you 
seek here?" inquired the commander-in-chief. "To fight for 
American independence." " What can you do?" "Try me." 
Washington was pleased with the curt, yet comprehensive reply, 
and with his chivalrous air and spirit, and at once received him 
into his family as an aide-de-camp. Congress shortly afterward 
appointed him an engineer, with the rank of colonel. He proved 
a valuable officer throughout the Revolution, and won an honora- 
ble and lasting name in our country. 

In recent army promotions, Congress had advanced Stirling, 
Mifflin, St. Clair, Stephen, and Lincoln to the rank of major-gen- 
eral, while Arnold, their senior in service, and distinguished by so 
many brilliant exploits, was passed over and left to remain a brig- 
adier. Washington was surprised at not seeing his name on the 
list, but supposing it might have been omitted through mistake, he 
wrote to Arnold, who was at Providence, Rhode Island, advising 
liim not to take any hasty step in consequence, promising his own 



I777-] EXPEDITION AGAINST DANBUR K 305 

endeavors to remedy any error that might have been made. An 
opportunity occurred before long, for Arnold again to signalize 
himself. The amount of stores destroyed at Peekskill had fallen 
far short of Howe's expectations. Something more must be 
done to cripple the Americans before the opening of the campaign. 
Accordingly, another expedition was set on foot against a still 
larger deposit at Danbury, within the borders of Connecticut, and 
between twenty and thirty miles from Peekskill. Ex-Gov. Tryon, 
recently commissioned major-general of provincials, conducted it, 
accompanied by Brig.-Gen. Agnew and Sir William Erskine, He 
had a mongrel force two thousand strong : American, Irish, and Brit- 
ish refugees from various parts of the continent; and made his 
appearance on the Sound in the latter part of April, with a fleet of 
twenty-six sail, greatly to the disquiet of every assailable place 
along the coast. On the 25th, toward evening, he landed his 
troops on the beach at the foot of Canepo Hill, near the mouth of 
the Saugatuck River. The yeomanry of the neighborhood had 
assembled to resist them, but a few cannon shot made them 
give way, and the troops set off for Danbury, about twenty-three 
miles distant ; galled at first by a scattering fire from behind a 
stone fence. They were in a patriotic neighborhood. Gen. Silli- 
man, of the Connecticut militia, who resided at Fairfield, a few 
miles distant, sent out expresses to rouse the country. It so hap- 
pened that Gen. Arnold was at New Haven, between twenty and 
thirty miles off, on his way to Philadelphia for the purpose of set- 
tling his accounts. At the alarm of a British inroad, he forgot his 
injuries and irritation, mounted his horse, and, accompanied by 
Gen. Wooster, hastened to join Gen. Silliman. As they spun'ed 
forward, every farm house sent out its warrior, until upward of a 
hundred were pressing on with them, full of the fighting spirit. 
Lieut. Oswald, Arnold's secretary in the Canada campaign, who 
had led the forlorn hope in the attempt upon Quebec, was at this 
time at New Haven, enlisting men for Lamb's regiment of artil- 
lery. He, too, heard the note of alarm, and mustering his recruits, 
marched oft'" with three field-pieces for the scene of action. In the 
meanwhile the British, marching all night with short baitings, 
reached Danbury about two o'clock in the afternoon of the 26th. 
There were but fifty Continental soldiers and one hundred militia 
in the place. These retreated, as did most of the inhabitants, 
excepting such as remained to take care of the sick and aged. 
Four men, intoxicated, as it was said, fired upon the troops from 
the windows of a large house. The soldiers rushed in, drove them 
into the cellar, set fire to the house, and left them to perish in the 
flames. There was a great quantity of stores of all kinds in the 
village, and no vehicles to convey them to the ships. The work 
of destruction commenced. The soldiers made free with the liquors 
found in abundance ; and throughout the greater part of the night 
there was revel, drunkenness, blasphemy, and devastation. 
Tryon, full of anxiety, and aware that the country was rising, 
ordered a retreat before daylight, setting fire to the magazines to 
complete the destruction of the stores. The flames spread to the 



3o6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

other edifices, and almost the whole village was soon in a blaze. 
The extreme darkness of a rainy night made the conflagration 
more balefuUy apparent throughout the country. Meanwhile the 
Connecticut yeomanry had been gathering. Fairfield and the 
adjacent counties had poured out their minute men. Gen. Silli- 
man had advanced at the head of five hundred. Gens. Wooster 
and Arnold joined him with their chance followers, as did a few 
more militia. A heavy rain retarded their march ; it was near 
midnight when they reached Bethel, within four miles of Danbury. 
Here they halted, to take a httle repose and put their arms in order, 
rendered almost unserviceable by the rain. They were now about 
six hundred strong. Wooster took the command, as first major- 
general of the militia of the State. Though in the sixty-eighth 
year of his age, he was full of ardor, with almost youthful fire and 
daring. A plan was concerted to punish the enemy on their 
retreat ; and the lurid light of Danbury in flames redoubled the 
provocation. At dawn of day, Wooster detached Arnold with four 
hundred men, to push across the country and take post at Ridge- 
field, by which the British must pass ; while he with two hundred 
remained, to hang on and harass them in flank and rear. The 
British began their retreat early in the morning, conducting it in 
the regular style, with flanking parties, and a rear guard well fur- 
nished with artillery. As soon as they had passed his position, 
Wooster attacked the rear-guard with great spirit and effect ; there 
"was sharp skirmishing until within two miles of Ridgefield, when, 
as the veteran was cheering on his men, who began to waver, a 
musket ball brought him down from his horse, and finished his 
gallant career. On his fall his men retreated in disorder. The 
delay which his attack had occasioned to the enemy, had given 
Arnold time to throw up a kind of breastwork or barricade across 
the road at the north end of Ridgefield, protected by a house on 
the right, and a high rocky bank on the left, where he took his 
stand with his little force now increased to about five hundred 
men. About eleven o'clock the enemy advanced in column, with 
artillery and flanking parties. They were kept at bay for a time, 
and received several volleys from the barricade, until it was out- 
flanked and carried. Arnold ordered a retreat, and was bringing 
off the rear-guard, when his horse was shot under him, and came 
down upon his knees. Arnold remained seated in the saddle, 
with one foot entangled in the stirrup. A tory soldier, seeing his 
plight, rushed toward him with fixed bayonet. He had just time 
to draw a pistol' from the holster. "You're my prisoner," cried 
the tory. "Not yet!" exclaimed Arnold, and shot him dead. 
Then extricating his foot from the stirrup, he threw himself into 
the thickets of a neighboring swamp, and escaped, unharmed by 
the bullets that whistled after him, and joined his retreating troops. 
Gen. Tryon intrenched for the night in Ridgefield, his troops having 
suffered greatly in their harassed retreat. The next morning, 
after having set fire to four houses, he continued his march for the 
ships. Col. Huntingdon, of the Continental army, with the troops 
which had been stationed at Danburv, the scattered forces of 



1777'] COL, MEIGS SURPRISES SAG HARBOR. 307 

Wooster which had joined him, and a number of militia, hung on 
the rear of the enemy as soon as they were in motion. Arnold 
was again in the field, with his rallied forces, strengthened by 
Lieut. -Col. Oswald with two companies of Lamb's artillery regi- 
ment and three field-pieces. With these he again posted himself 
on the enemy's route. Difficulties and annoyances had multiplied 
upon the latter at every step. When they came in sight of the 
position where Arnold was waiting for them they changed their 
route, wheeled to the left, and made for a ford of Saugatuck River. 
Arnold hastened to cross the bridge and take them in flank, but 
they were too quick for him. Col. Lamb had now reached the 
scene of action, as had about two hundred volunteers. Leaving 
to Oswald the charge of the artillery, he put himself at the head 
of the volunteers, and led them up to Arnold's assistance. 
The enemy, finding themselves hard- pressed, pushed for Canepo 
Hill. They reached it in the evening, without a round of ammuni- 
tion in their cartridge-boxes. As they were now within cannon 
shot of their ships, the Americans ceased the pursuit. The British 
formed upon the high ground, brought their artillery to the front, 
and sent off to the ships for reinforcements. Sir William Erskine 
landed a large body of marines and sailors, who drove the Ameri- 
cans back for some distance, and covered the embarkation of the 
troops. Col. Lamb, while leading on his men gallantly to capture 
the British field-piece^, was wounded by a grape-shot, and Arnold, 
while cheering on the militia, had another horse shot under him. 
In the meantime, the harassed marauders effected their embarka- 
tion, and the fleet got under way. In this inroad the enemy 
destroyed a considerable amount of military stores, and seventeen 
hundred tents prepared for the use of Washington's army in the 
ensuing campaign. The loss of Gen. Wooster was deeply deplored. 
He survived the action long enough to be consoled in his dying 
moments at Danbury, by the presence of his wife and son, who 
hastened thither from New Haven. As to Arnold, his gallantry in 
this affair gained him fresh laurels, and Congress, to remedy their 
late error, promoted him to the rank of major-general. Still this pro- 
motion did not restore him to his proper position. He was at the 
bottom of the list of major-generals, with four officers above him, 
his juniors in service. Washington felt this injustice on the part of 
Congress, and wrote about it to the president. " He has certainly 
discovered," said he, " in every instance where he has had an 
opportunity, much bravery, activity, and enterprise." As an 
additional balm to Arnold's wounded pride, Congress a few days 
afterward voted that a horse, properly caparisoned, should be pre- 
sented to him in their name, as a token of their approbation of his 
gallant conduct in the late action, " in which he had one horse 
shot under him and another wounded." 

The destructive expeditions against the American depots of mili- 
tary stores, were retaliated in kind by Col. Meigs, a spirited officer, 
who had accompanied Arnold in his expedition through the wil- 
derness against Quebec, and had caught something of his love for 
iardy exploit. Having received intelligence that the British com- 



3o8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

missaries had collected a great amount of grain, forage and other 
supplies at Sag Harbor, a small port in the deep bay which forks 
the east end of Long Island, he crossed the Sound on the 23rd of 
May from Guilford in Connecticut, with about one hundred and 
seventy men in whale-boats convoyed by two armed sloops ; 
landed on the island near Southold ; carried the boats a distance 
of fifteen miles across the north fork of the bay, launched them 
into the latter, crossed it, landed within four miles of Sag Harbor, 
and before daybreak carried the place, which was guarded by a 
company of foot. A furious fire of round and grape-shot was 
opened upon the Americans from an armed schooner, anchored 
al30ut one hundred and fifty yards from shore ; and stout defence 
was made by the crews of a dozen brigs and sloops lying at the 
wharf to take in freight ; but Meigs succeeded in burning these 
vessels, destroying everything on shore, and carrying off ninety 
prisoners ; among whom were the officer of the company of foot, 
tlie commissaries, and the captains of most of the small vessels. 
With these he and liis party recrossed the bay, transported their 
boats again across the fork of land, launched them on the Sound, 
and got safe back to Guilford ; having achieved all this, and tra- 
versed about ninety miles of land and water, in twenty-five hours. 
Washington was highly pleased with the spirit and success of this 
enterprise, and he publicly returned thanks to Col. Meigs and the 
officers and men engaged in it. It could not fail, he said, greatly 
to distress the enemy in the important and essential article of for- 
age. But it was the moral effect of the enterprise which gave it 
the most value. It cheered the spirit of the people ; depressed by 
overshadowing dangers and severe privations, and kept alive the^ 
mihtary spark that was to kindle into the future flame. 

The Highland passes of the Hudson, always objects of anxious 
thought to Washington, were especially so at this juncture. Gen, 
McDougall still commanded at Peekskill, and Gen. George Chn- 
ton, who resided at New Windsor, had command of the Highland 
forts. The latter, at the earnest request of the New York Conven- 
tion, had received from Congress the command of brigadier-general 
in the Continental army. He was one of the soldiers of the Revo- 
lution who served from a sense of duty, not from military inclina- 
tion or a thirst for glory. A long career of public service in vari- 
ous capacities illustrated his modest worth and devoted patriotism. 
A fev/ days later came word that several transports were anchored 
at Dobb's Ferry in the Tappan Sea. Washington ordered Clin- 
ton to post as good a number of troops from his garrison as he 
could spare, on the mountains west of the river. On the 12th of 
May, Gen. Greene received instructions from Washington to pro- 
ceed to the Highlands, and examine the state and condition of the 
forts, especially Fort Montgomery ; the probability of an attack by 
water, the practicability of an approach by land ; where and how 
this could be effected, and the eminences whence the forts could 
be annoyed. When reconnoitering the Highlands in the preced- 
ing year, Washington had remarked a wild and rugged pass on 
the western side of the Hudson round Bull Hill, a rocky, forestclad 



1777-] DEFENCES OF THE HUDSON. 309 

mountain, forming an advance rampart at the entrance to Peeks- 
kill Bay. "This pass," he observed, "should also be attended 
to, lest the enemy by ^ coup de main should possess themselves of 
it, before a sufficient force could be asse?nbled to oppose them." 
Gen. Knox was associated with Gen. Greene in this visit of inspec- 
tion. They examined the river and the passes of the Highlands in 
company with Gens. McDougall, George Clinton, and Anthony 
Wayne. The latter, recently promoted to the rank of brigadier, 
had just returned from Ticonderoga. The five generals made a 
joint report to Washington, in which they recommended the com- 
pletion of the obstructions in the river already commenced. These 
consisted of a boom, or heavy iron chain, across the river from 
Fort Montgomery to Anthony's Nose, with cables stretched in 
front to break the force of any ship under way, before she could 
strike it The boom was to be protected by the guns of two ships 
and two row galleys stationed just above it, and by batteries on 
shore. 

The general command of the Hudson, from the number of 
troops to be assembled there, and the variety of points to be 
guarded, was one of the most important in the service, and required 
an officer of consummate energy, activity and judgment. It was 
a major-general's command, and as such was offered by Wash- 
ington to Arnold ; intending thus publicly to manifest his opinion 
of his deserts, and hoping, by giving him so important a post, to 
appease his irritated feelings. The command being dechned by 
Arnold, was now given to Putnam, who repaired forthwith to 
Peekskill. Gen. McDougall was requested by Washington to aid 
the veteran in gaining a knowledge of the post. "You are well 
acquainted," writes he, "with the old gentleman's temper; he is 
active, disinterested, and open to conviction." Putnam set about 
promptly to carry into effect the measures of security which Greene 
and Knox had recommended ; especially the boom and chain at 
Fort Montgomery. 

Toward the end of May Washington broke up his cantonments 
at Morristown and shifted his camp to Middlebrook, within ten 
miles of Brunswick. His whole force fit for duty was now about 
seven thousand three hundred men, all from the States south of 
the Hudson. There were forty-three regiments, forming ten brig- 
ades, commanded by Brigadiers Muhlenberg, Weedon, Woodford. 
Scott, Smallwood, Deborre, Wayne, Dehaas, Conway and Max- 
well. These were apportioned into five divisions of two brigades 
each under Major-Generals Greene, Stephen, Sullivan, Lincoln and 
Stirhng. The artillery was commanded by Knox. Sulhvan, with . 
his division, was stationed on the right at Princeton. With the 
rest of his force Washington fortified himself in a position naturally 
strong, among hills, in the rear of the village of Middlebrook. His 
camp was, on all sides, difficult of approach, and he rendered it 
still more so by intrenchments. The high grounds about it com- 
manded a wide view of the country around Brunswick, the road to 
Philadelphia, and the course of the Raritan, so that the enemy 
could make no important movement on land, without his jerceiv- 



7IO LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

ing it. It was now the beautiful season of the year, and the troops 
from their height beheld a fertile and well cultivated country 
spread before them, "painted with meadows, green fields and 
orchards, studded with villages, and affording abundant supplies 
and forage." A part of their duty was to guard it from the ravage 
of the enemy, while they held themselves ready to counteract his 
movements in every direction. On the 31st of May, reports were 
brought to camp that a fleet of a hundred sail had left New York, 
and stood out to sea. Whither bound, and how freighted, was 
unknown. If they carried troops, their destination might be Del- 
aware Bay. Eighteen transports, also, had arrived at New York, 
with troops in foreign uniforms. These proved to be Anspachers, 
and other German mercenaries ; there were British reinforcements 
also ; and, what was particularly needed, a supply of tents and 
camp equipage. Sir William Howe had been waiting for the lat- 
ter, and hkewise until the ground should be covered with grass. 
Early in June, therefore, he gave up ease and gayety, and luxu- 
rious life at New York, and crossing into the Jerseys, set up his 
headquarters at Brunswick. 

Arnold, in this critical juncture, had been put in command of 
Philadelphia, a post which he had been induced to accept, although 
the question of rank had not been adjusted to his satisfaction. On 
the night of the 13th of June, Gen. Howe sallied forth in great force 
from Brunswick, as if pushing directly for the Delaware, but his 
advanced guard halted at Somerset court-house, about eight or 
nine miles distant. Washington drew out his army in battle 
array along the heights, but kept quiet. In the present state of 
his forces it was his plan not to risk a general action ; but, should 
the enemy really march toward the Delaware, to hang heavily 
upon their rear. Their principal difficulty would be in crossing that 
river, and there, he trusted, they would meet with spirited oppo- 
sition from the Continental troops and militia stationed on the 
vestern side under Arnold and Mifflin. The British took up a 
strong position, having Millstone Creek on their left, the Raritan 
all along their front, and their right resting on Brunswick, and 
proceeded to fortify themselves with bastions. The American and 
British annies remained four days grimly regarding each other; 
both waiting to be attacked. The Jersey militia, which now turned 
out with alacrity, repaired, some to Washington's camp, others to 
that of Sullivan. The latter had fallen back from Princeton, and 
taken a posidon behind the Sourland Hills. Howe pushed out 
detachments, and made several feints as if to pass by the Ameri- 
can camp and march to the Delaware ; but Washington was not 
to be deceived. "The enemy will not move that way," said he, 
"until they have given this army a severe blow. The risk would 
be roc great to attempt to cross a river where they must expect to 
meet a formidable opposition in front, and would have such a 
force as ours in their rear." He kept on the heights, therefore, and 
strengthened his intrenchments. Baffled in these attempts to draw 
his cautious adversary into a general action, Howe, on the 19th, 
suddenly broke up his camp, and pretended to return with some 



1777'] THE BRITISH EVACUATE THE JERSEYS. 311 

precipitation to Brunswick, burning as he went several valuable 
dwelling houses. Washington's light troops hovered round the 
enemy as far as the Raritan and Millstone, which secured their 
flanks, would permit ; but the main army kept to its stronghold on 
the heights. On the 22d, Sir William again marched out of Bruns- 
wick, but this time proceeded toward Amboy. Washington sent 
out three brigades under General Greene to fall upon the rear of 
the enemy, while Morgan hung upon their skirts with his riflemen. 
At the same time the army remained paraded on the heights ready 
to yield support, if necessary. Findmg that Howe had actually 
sent his heavy baggage and part of his troops overtoStaten Island 
by a bridge of boats which he had thrown across, Washington, on 
the 24th, left the heights and descended to Quibbletown (now New 
Market), six or seven miles on the road to Amboy, to be nearer at 
hand for the protection of his advanced parties ; while Lord Stirl- 
ing, with his division and some light troops, was at Matouchin 
church, closer to the enemy's lines, to watch their motions, and be 
ready to harass them while crossing to the island. Howe now 
thought he had gained his point. Recalling those who had crossed, 
he formed his troops into two columns, the right led by Cornwallis, 
the left by himself, and marched back rapidly by different routes 
from Amboy. Washington, however, had timely notice of his 
movements, and penetrating his design, regained his fortified camp 
at Middlebrook, and secured the passes of the mountains. He 
then detached a body of light troops under Brig. -Gen. Scott, 
together with Morgan's riflemen, to hang on the flank of the enemy 
and watch their motions. Cornwallis, making a considerable cir- 
cuit to the right, dispersed the light parties of the advance, but 
fell in with Lord Stirling's divison, strongly posted in a woody 
country, and well covered by artillery judiciously disposed. A 
sharp skirmish ensued, when the Americans gave way and retreated 
to the hills, with the loss of a few men and three field-pieces ; 
while the British halted at Westfield, disappointed in the main 
objects of their enterprise. They remained at Westfield until the 
afternoon of the 27th, when they moved toward Spanktown (now 
Railway), plundering all before them, but pursued and harassed 
the whole way by the American light troops. Perceiving that 
every scheme of bringing the Americans to a general action, or at 
least of withdrawing them from their strongholds, was rendered 
abortive by the caution and prudence of Washington, and aware 
of the madness of attempting to march to the Delaware through a 
hostile country, with such a force in his rear. Sir William Howe 
broke up his headquarters at Amboy on the last of June, and 
crossed over to Staten Island on the floating bridge ; his troops 
marched off to the old camping ground on the Bay of New York; 
the ships got under way, and moved down round the island ; and 
it was soon apparent, that at length the enemy had really evacua- 
ted the Jerseys, 

Scarce had the last tent been struck and the last transport disap- 
peared from before Amboy, when intelligence arrived from Gen. 
St. Clair, announcing the appearance of a hostile fleet on Lake 



312 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Champlain, and that Gen. Burgoyne with the whole Canada army- 
was approaching Ticonderoga. The judgment and circumspec- 
tion of Washington were never more severely put to the proof. 
Gen. Burgoyne was a man of too much spirit and enterprise to 
return from England merely to execute a plan from which no honor 
was to be derived. Did he really intend to break through by the 
way of Ticonderoga ? In that case it must be Howe's plan to coop- 
erate with him. If so, Sir WiUiam must soon throw off the mask. 
His next move, in such case, would be to ascend the Hudson, 
seize on the Highland passes before Washington could form a 
union with the troops stationed there, and thus open the way for 
the junction with Burgoyne. Should Washington, however, on 
such a presumption, hasten with his troops to Peekskill, leaving 
Howe on Staten Island, what would prevent the latter from push- 
ing to Philadelphia by South Amboy or any other route ? In this 
dilemma he sent Gens. Parsons and Varnum with a couple of 
brigades in all haste to Peekskill ; and wrote to Gens. George 
Chnton and Putnam ; the former to call out the New York militia 
from Orange and Ulster counties ; the latter to summon the militia 
from Connecticut ; and as soon as such reinforcements should beat 
hand, to dispatch four of the strongest Massachusetts regiments to the 
aid of Ticonderoga ; at the same time the expediency was sugges- 
ted to Gen. Schuyler, of having all the cattle and vehicles removed 
from parts of the country he might think the enemy intended to 
penetrate. Gen. Sullivan was ordered to advance with his divis- 
ion toward the Highlands as far as Pompton, while Washington 
moved his own camp back to Morristown, to be ready either to 
push on to the Highlands, or fall back upon his recent position at 
Middlebrook, according to the movements of the enemy. Desert- 
ers from Staten Island and New York soon brought word to the 
camp that transports were being fitted up with berths for horses, 
and taking in three weeks' supply of water and provender. All 
this indicated some other destination than that of the Hudson. 

The energy, skill, and intelligence displayed by Hamilton 
throughout the last year's campaign, whenever his limited com- 
mand gave him opportunity of evincing them, had won his entrance 
to headquarters ; where his quick discernment and precocious 
judgment were soon fully appreciated. Strangers were surprised 
to see a youth, scarce twenty years of age, received into the implicit 
confidence, and admitted into the gravest counsels, of a man hke 
Washington. While his uncommon talents thus commanded 
respect, rarely inspired by one of his years, his juvenile appear- 
ance and buoyant spirit made him a universal favorite. Harrison, 
the "old secretary," much his senior, looked upon him with an 
almost paternal eye, and regarding his diminutive size and tower- 
ing spirit, used to call him **the little lion;" while Washington 
would now and then speak of him by the cherishing appellation of 
" my boy." 



1777-] BURGOYNE'S INVASION. 313 

CHAPTER XIV. 

BURGOYNE'S invasion from CANADA. 

The armament advancing against Ticonderoga was not a mere 
diversion, but a regular invasion ; the plan of which had been 
devised by the king, Lord George Germain, and Gen. Burgoyne, 
the latter having returned to England from Canada in the preced- 
ing year. The junction of the two armies — that in Canada and 
that under General Howe in New York — was considered the speed- 
iest mode of quelhng the rebellion ; and as the security and good 
government of Canada required the presence of Governor Sir Guy 
Carleton, three thousand men were to remain there with him ; the 
residue of the army was to be employed upon two expeditions : the 
one under Gen. Burgoyne, who was to force his way to Albany, 
the other under Lieut. -Col. St. Leger, who was to make a diver- 
sion on the Mohawk River. The invading arniy was composed 
of three thousand seven hundred and twenty -four British rank and 
file, three thousand and sixteen GeiTnans, mostly Brunswickers, 
two hundred and fifty Canadians, and four hundred Indians ; 
besides these there were four hundred and seventy-three artillery 
men, in all nearly eight thousand men. The army was admirably 
appointed. Its brass train of artillery was extolled as perhaps the 
finest ever allotted to an army of the size. Gen. Phillips, who 
commanded the artillery, had. gained great reputation in the wars 
in Germany. Brig.-Gens. Eraser, Powel, and Hamilton, were 
also officers of distinguished merit. So was Mai. -General the 
Baron Riedesel, a Brunswicker, who commanded the German troops. 
While Burgoyne with the main force proceeded from St. Johns, 
Col. St. Leger, with a detachment of regulars and Canadians about 
seven hundred strong, was to land at Oswego and, guided by Sir 
John Johnson at the head of his loyalist volunteers, tory refugees 
from his former neighborhood, and a body of Indians, was to 
enter the Mohawk country, draw the attention of Gen. Schuyler 
in that direction, attack Fort Stanwix, and, having ravaged the 
valley of the Mohawk, rejoin Burgoyne at Albany ; where it was 
expected they would make a triumphant junction with the army 
of Howe. Gen. Burgoyne left St. Johns on the i6th of June. 
Some idea may be formed of his buoyant anticipation of a tri- 
umphant progress through the country, by the manifold and lum- 
bering appurtenances of a European camp with which his army 
was encumbered. In this respect he had committed the same 
error in his campaign through a wilderness of lakes and forests, 
that had once embarrassed the unfortunate Braddock in his march 
across the mountains of Virginia. On the following day Schuy- 
ler was at Ticonderoga. The works were not in such a state of 
forwardness as he had anticipated, owing to the tardy arrival of 
troops, and the want of a sufficient number of artificers. Mount 



314 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

Independence, a high circular hill on the east side of the lake, 
immediately opposite to the old fort, was considered the most 
defensible. A star fort with pickets crowned the summit of the 
hill, which was table land ; half way down the side of a hill was a 
battery, and at its foot were strongly intrenched works well mounted 
with cannon. Here the French General de Fermois, who had 
charge of this fort, was posted. As this part of Lake Champlain 
is narrow, a connection was kept up between the two forts by a 
floating bridge, supported on twenty-two sunken piers in caissons, 
formed of very strong timber. Between the piers were separate 
floats, fifty feet long and twelve feet wide, strongly connected by 
iron chains and rivets. On the north side of the bridge was a 
boom, composed of large pieces of timber, secured by riveted bolts, 
and besides this was a double iron chain with links an ijich and a 
half square. The bridge, boom, and chain were four hundred 
yards in length. This immense work, the labor of months, on 
which no expense had been spared, was intended, while it afforded 
a communication between the two forts, to protect the upper part 
of the lake, presenting, under cover of their guns, a barrier, which 
it was presumed no hostile ship would be able to break through. 
Schuyler hastened to Fort George, whence he sent on provisions 
for upward of sixty days ; and from the banks of the Hudson addi- 
tional carpenters and working cattle. 

In the meantime, Burgoyne, with his amphibious and semi-bar- 
barous armament, was advancing up the lake. On the 21st of 
June he encamped at the river Boquet, several miles north of 
Crown Point; here he gave a war feast to his savage allies, and 
made them a speech in that pompous and half poetical vein in 
which it is the absurd practice to address our savages, and which 
is commonly reduced to flat prose by their interpreters. At the 
same time he was strenuous in enjoining humanity toward prison- 
ers, dwelling on the differences between ordinary wars carried on 
against a common enemy, and this against a country in rebelHon, 
where the hostile parties were of the same blood, and loyal sub- 
jects of the crown might be confounded with the rebellious. 

The garrison at Ticonderoga, meanwhile, were anxiously on the 
look-out. Their fortress, built on a hill, commanded an exten- 
sive prospect over the bright and beautiful lake and its surround- 
ing forests, but there were long points and promontories at a dis- 
tance to intercept the view. The enemy came advancing up the 
lake on the 30th, their main body under Burgoyne on the west 
side, the German reserve under Baron Riedesel on the east ; com- 
munication being maintained by frigates and gunboats, which, in a 
manner, kept pace between them. It was a magnificent array of 
warlike means ; and the sound of drum and trumpet along the 
shores, and now and then the thundering of a cannon from the 
ships, were singularly in contrast with the usual silence of a region 
little better than a wilderness. On the 1st of July, Burgoyne 
encamped four miles north of Ticonderoga, and began to intrench, 
and to throw a boom across the lake. His advanced guard under 
Gen. Frascr took post at Three Mile Point, and the ships anchored 



17-]-]?^ TICONDEROGA INVESTED, 315. 

just out of gunshot of the fort. Here he issued a proclamation 
still more magniloquent than his speech to the Indians, denounc- 
ing woe to all who should persist in rebellion, and laying particular 
stress upon his means, with the aid of the Indians, to overtake the 
the hardiest enemies of Great Britian and America wherever they 
might lurk. 

Gen. St. Clair was a gallant Scotchman, who had seen service in 
the old French war as well as in this, and beheld the force arrayed 
against him without dismay. It is true his garrison did not exceed 
tliree thousand five hundred men, of whom nine hundred were militia. 
They were badly equipped, and few had bayonets ; yet, as Major 
Livingston reported, they were in good heart. St. Clair confided, 
however, in the strength of his position and the works which had 
been constructed in connection with it, and trusted he should be 
able to resist any attempt to take it by storm. Schuyler at this 
time was at Albany, sending up reinforcements of Continental 
troops and militia, and awaiting the arrival of further reinforce- 
ments, for which sloops had been sent down to Peekskill. He was 
endeavoring also to provide for the security of the department in 
other quarters. The savages had been scalping in the neighbor- 
hood of Fort Schuyler ; a set of renegade Indians were harassing 
the settlements on the Susquehanna ; and the threatenings of Brant, 
the famous Indian chief, and the prospect of a British inroad by 
the way of Oswego, had spread terror through Tryon County, 
the inhabitants of which called upon him for support. On 
the 2d of July, Indian scouts made their appearance in the 
vicinity of a block-house and some outworks about the strait or 
channel leading to Lake George. As Gen. St. Clair did not think 
the garrison sufficient to defend all the outposts, these works with 
some adjacent saw-mills were set on fire and abandoned. The 
extreme left of Ticonderoga was weak, and might be easily turned ; 
a post had therefore been established in the proceeding year, nearly 
half a mile in advance of the old French lines, on an eminence 
to the north of them. Gen. St. Clair, through singular remissness, 
had neglected to secure it. Burgoyne soon discovered this neglect, 
and hastened to detach Gen. Phillips and Fraser with a body of 
infantry and light artillery, to take possession of this post. They 
did so without opposition. Heavy guns were mounted upon it ; 
Fraser* s whole corps was stationed there ; the post commanded the 
communication by land and water with Lake George, so as to cut 
off all supplies from that quarter. In fact, such were the advan- 
tages expected from this post, thus neglected by St. Clair, that the 
British gave it the significant name of Mount Hope. The enemy 
now proceeded gradually to invest Ticonderoga. A line of troops 
was drawn from the western part of Mount Hope round to Three 
Mile Point, where Gen. Fraser was posted with the advance guard, 
while Gen. Riedesel encamped with the German. reserve in a par- 
allel line, on the opposite side of Lake Champlain, at the foot of 
Mount Independence. For two days the enemy occupied them- 
selves in making their advances and securing these positions, 
regardless of a cannonade kept up by the American batteries. St, 



3i6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Clair began to apprehend that a regular siege was intended, which 
would be more difficult to withstand than a direct assault ; he 
kept up a resolute aspect, however, and went about among his 
troops, encouraging them with the hope of a successful resistance, 
but enjoining incessant vigilance, and punctual attendance 
at the alarm posts at morning and evening roll-call. With 
all the pains and expense lavished by the Americans to ren- 
der these works impregnable, they had strangely neglected the 
master key by which they were all commanded. This was Sugar 
Hill, a rugged height, the termination of a mountain ridge which 
separates Lake Champlain from Lake George. It stood to the 
south of Ticonderoga, beyond the narrow channel which connected 
the two lakes, and rose precipitously from the waters of Champlain 
to the height of six hundred feet. The British General Phillips, on 
taking his position, had regarded the hill with a practiced eye. He 
caused it to be reconnoitered by a skillful engineer. The report 
was, that it overlooked, and had the entire command of Fort 
Ticonderoga and Fort Independence ; being about fourteen hun- 
dred yards from the former, and fifteen hundred from the latter ; 
that the ground could be leveled for cannon, and a road cut up the 
defiles of the mountain in four and twenty hours. While the 
American garrisons were entirely engaged in a different direction, 
cannonading Mount Hope and the British hnes without material 
effect, and without provoking a reply ; the British troops were busy 
throughout the day and night cutting a road through rocks and 
trees and up rugged defiles. Guns, ammunition, and stores, all 
were carried up the hill in the night ; the cannon were hauled up 
from tree to tree, and before morning the ground was leveled for 
the battery on which they were to be mounted. To this work, thus 
achieved by a coup de main, they gave the name of Fort Defiance. 
On the 5th of July, to their astonishment and consternation, the 
garrison beheld a legion of red-coats on the summit of this hill, 
constructing works which must soon lay the fortress at their mercy. 
In this sudden and appalling emergency. Gen. St. Clair called a 
council of war. \Vhat was to be done .'' The batteries,from this 
new fort would probably be open the next day : by that time 
Ticonderoga might be completely invested, and the whole 
garrison exposed to capture. It was unanimously determmed 
to evacuate both Ticonderoga and Mount Independence that 
very night, and retreat to Skenesborough (now Whitehall), at 
the upper part of the lake, about thirty miles distant, where there 
was a stockaded fort. The main body of the army, led by Gen. 
St. Clair, were to cross to Mount Independence and push for 
Skenesborough by land, taking a circuitous route through the 
woods on the east side of the lake, by the way of Castleton. It 
was now three o'clock in the afternoon; yet all the preparations 
were to be made for the coming night, and that with as little bustle 
and movement as possible ; for they were overlooked by Fort 
Defiance, and their intentions might be suspected. Everything, 
therefore, was done quietly, but alertly ; in the meantime, to amuse 
the enemy, a cannonade was kept up every half hour toward the 



1 7 77 • J THE BRITISH IN PURSUIT. 3 1 7 

new battery on the hill. As soon as the evening closed, and their 
movements could not be discovered, they began in all haste to load 
the boats. Such of the cannon as could not be taken were ordered 
to be spiked. It would not do to knock off their trunnions, lest the 
noise should awaken suspicions. In the hurry several were left 
uninjured. The lights in the garrison being previously extinguished, 
their tents were struck and put on board of the boats, and the 
women and the sick embarked. Everything was conducted with 
such silence and address, that, although it was a moonlight night, 
the flotilla departed undiscovered ; and was soon under the shad- 
ows of mountains and overhanging forests. The retreat by land 
was not conducted with equal discretion and mystery. Gen. St. 
Clair had crossed over the bridge to the Vermont side of the lake 
by three o'clock in the morning, and set forward with his advance 
through the woods toward Hubbardton ; but, before the rear-guard 
under Col. Francis got in motion, the house at Fort Independence, 
which had been occupied by the French General de Fermois, was 
set on fire. The consequences were disastrous. The British sen- 
tries at Mount Hope were astonished by a conflagration suddenly 
lighting up Mount Independence, and revealing the American 
troops in full retreat ; for the rear-guard, disconcerted by this sud*- 
den exposure, pressed forward for the woods in the utmost haste 
and confusion. The drums beat to arms in the British camp. 
Alarm guns were fired from Mount Hope: Gen. Fraser dashed \nto 
Ticonderoga with his pickets, giving orders for his brigade to arm 
in all haste and follow. By daybreak he had hoisted the British 
flag over the deserted fortress ; before sunrise he had passed the 
bridge, and was in full pursuit of the American rear-guard. Bur- 
goyne was roused from his morning slumbers on board of the 
frigate Royal George, by the alarm guns from Fort Hope, and a 
message from Gen. Fraser, announcing the double retreat of the 
Americans by land and water. From the quarter-deck of the 
frigate he soon had confirmation of the news. The British colors 
were flying on Fort Ticonderoga, and Fraser' s troops were glitter- 
on the opposite shore. Gen. Riedesel was ordered to follow and 
support Fraser with a part of the German troops ; garrisons were 
thrown into Ticonderoga and Mount Independence ; the main part 
of the army was embarked on board of the frigates and gunboats ; 
the floating bridge with its boom and chain, which had cost months 
to construct, was broken through by nine o'clock ; when Burgoyne 
set out with his squadron in pursuit of the flotilla. 

About three o'clock in the afternoon of the succeeding day, the 
heavily laden bateaux arrived at Skenesborough. The disem- 
barkation had scarcely commenced when the thundering of artil- 
lery was heard from below. The British gunboats having pushed 
on in advance of the frigates, had overtaken and were firing upon 
the galleys. The latter defended themselves for a M'hile, but at 
length two struck, and three were blown up. The fugitives from 
them brought word that the British ships not being able to come 
up, troops and Indians were landing from them and scrambling up 
the hills ; intending to get in the rear of the fort and cut off all 



3i8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

retreat. All now was consternation and confusion. The bateaux, 
the storehouses, the fort, the mill were all set on fire, and a gen- 
eral flight took place toward Fort Anne, about twelve miles 
distant, which was reached by daybreak. It was a small pick- 
eted fort, near the junction of Wood Creek and East Creek, about 
sixteen miles from Fort Edward. Gen. Schuyler arrived at the 
latter place on the following day. On the same day Col. Long's 
scouts brought in word that there were British red coats approach- 
ing. They were in fact a regiment under Lieut.-Col. Hill, detached 
from Skenesborough by Burgoyne in pursuit of the fugitives. 
Long sallied forth to meet them ; posting himself at a rocky defile, 
where there was a narrow pathway along the border of Wood 
Creek. As the enemy advanced he opened a heavy fire upon 
them in front, while a part of his troops crossing and recrossing the 
creek, and availing themselves of their knowledge of the ground, 
kept up a shifting attack from the woods in flank and rear. The 
British took post upon a high hill to their right, where they were 
warmly besieged for nearly two hours, and, according to their own 
account, would certainly have been forced had not some of their 
Indian allies arrived and set up the much-dreaded war-whoop. The 
Americans had nearly expended their ammunition, and had not 
enough left to cope with this new enemy. They retreated, therefore, 
to Fort Anne, set fire to the fort and pushed on to Fort Edward. 

St. Clair's retreat through the woods from Mount Independence 
continued the first day until night, when he arrived at Castleton, 
thirty miles from Ticonderoga. His rear-guard halted about six 
miles short, at Hubbardton, to await the arrival of stragglers. It 
was composed of three regiments, under Colonels Seth Warner, 
Francis and Hale ; in all about thirteen hundred men. Early the 
next morning while they were taking their breakfast, they were 
startled by the report of fire-arms. Their sentries had discharged 
their muskets, and came running in with word that the enemy were 
at hand. It was Gen. Eraser, with his advance of eight hundred 
and fifty men, who had pressed forward in the latter part of the 
night, and now attacked the Americans, who met the British with 
great spirit; but at the very commencement of the action. Col. 
Hale, with a detachment placed under his command to protect the 
rear, gave way, leaving Warner and Francis with but seven hun- 
dred men to bear the brunt of the battle. These posted themselves 
behind logs and trees in " backwood " style, whence they kept up 
a destructive fire and were evidently gaining the advantage, when 
Gen. Riedesel came pressing into the action with his German 
troops ; drums beating and colors flying. There was now an 
impetuous charge with the bayonet. Col. Francis was among the 
first who fell, gallantly fighting at the head of his men. The 
Americans, thinking the whole German force upon them, gave way 
and fled, leaving the ground covered with their dead and wounded. 
Many others who had been wounded perished in the woods, where 
they had taken refuge. Their whole loss in killed, wounded and 
taken, was upward of three hundred ; that of the enemy one 
hundred and eighty-three. Several officers were lost on both 



1/77'] BARRIERS OF THE NORTH BROKEN, 31^ 

sides. At this juncture St. Clair received information of Bur- 
goyne's arrival at Skenesborough, and the destruction of the 
American works tliere : fearing to be intercepted at Fort Anne, 
he immediately changed his route, struck into the woods on his 
left, and directed his march to Rutland, leaving word for Warner 
to follow him. The latter overtook him two days afterward, with 
his shattered force reduced to ninety men. As to Col. Hale, who 
had pressed toward Castleton at the beginning of the action, he 
and his men were overtaken the same day by the enemy, and the 
whole party captured, without making any fight. On the 12th St. 
Clair reached Fort Edward, his troops haggard and exhausted by 
their long retreat through the woods. The loss of artillery, ammu- 
nition, provisions and stores, in consequence of the evacuation of 
these northern posts, was prodigious ; but the worst effect was the 
consternation spread throughout the country. A panic prevailed 
at Albany, the people running about as if distracted, sending off 
their goods and furniture. The great barriers of the North, it was 
said, were broken through, and tliere was nothing to check the 
triumphant career of the enemy. 

A spirited exploit to the eastward was performed during the 
prevalence of adverse news from the North. Gen. Prescott had 
command of the British forces in Rhode Island. His harsh treat- 
ment of Col. Ethan Allen, and his haughty and arrogant conduct 
on various occasions, had rendered him peculiarly odious to the 
Americans. Lieut. -Col. Barton, who was stationed with a force 
of Rhode Island militia on the mainland, received word that 
Prescott was quartered at a country house near the western shore 
of the island, about four miles from Newport, totally unconscious 
of danger, though in a very exposed situation. He determined, 
if possible, to surprise and capture him. Forty resolute men 
joined him in the enterprise. Embarking at night in two boats at 
Warwick Neck, they pulled quietly across the bay with muffled 
oars, undiscovered by the ships of war and guard-boats ; landed 
in silence ; eluded the vigilance of the guard stationed near the 
house ; captured the sentry at the door, and surprised the general 
in his bed. His aide-de-camp leaped from the window, but was 
likewise taken. Col. Barton returned with equal silence and 
address, and arrived safe at Warwick with his prisoners» A sword 
was voted to him by Congress, and he received a colonel's com- 
mission in the regular army. Washington hailed the capture of 
Prescott as a peculiarly fortunate circumstance, furnishing him with 
an equivalent for Gen. Lee. He accordingly wrote to Sir William 
Howe, proposing the exchange. 

Schuyler had earnestly desired the assistance of an active 
officer well acquainted with the country. Washington sent him 
Arnold. "I need not," writes he, •* enlarge upon his well-known 
activity, conduct and bravery. The proofs he has given of all 
these have gained him the confidence of the public and of the 
army, the Eastern troops in particular." — Schuyler, in the mean- 
time, aided by Kosciuszko, who was engineer in his department, 
had selected two positions on Moses Creek, four miles below Fort 



320 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Edward ; where the troops which had retreated from Ticonderoga, 
and part of the militia, were throwing up works. To impede the 
advance of the enemy, he had caused trees to be felled into Wood 
Creek, so as to render it unnavigable, and the roads between Fort 
Edward and Fort Anne to be broken up ; the cattle in that direc- 
tion to be brought away, and the forage destroyed. He had drawn 
off the garrison from Fort George, who left the buildings in flames. 
Washington wrote to Schuyler (July 22d), full of that confident 
hope, founded on sagacious forecast, with which he was prone to 
animate his generals in times of doubt and difficulty. " Though 
our affairs for some days days past have worn a dark and gloomy 
aspect, I yet look forward to a fortunate and happy change. I 
trust Gen. Burgoyne's army will meet sooner or later an effectual 
check, and, as I suggested before, that the success he has had will 
precipitate his ruin. From your accounts, he appears to be pur- 
suing that line of conduct, which, of all others, is most favorable 
to us ; I mean acting in detachment. This conduct Avill certainly 
give room for enterprise on our part, and expose his parties to 
great hazard. Could we be so happy as to cut one of them off, 
supposing it should not exceed four, five, or six hundred men, it 
would inspirit the people, and do away much of their present 
anxiety. In such an event they would lose sight of past misfor- 
tunes, and, urged at the same time by a regard to their own 
security, they would fly to arms and afford every aid in their 
power." While he thus suggested bold enterprises, he cautioned 
Schuyler not to repose too much confidence in the works he was 
projecting, so as to collect in them a large quantity of stores. " I 
begin to consider lines as a kind of trap; " writes he, "and not 
to answer the valuable purposes expected from them, unless they 
are in passes which cannot be avoided by the enemy." In circu- 
lars addressed to the brigadier-generals of militia in the western 
parts of l\Iassachusctts and Connecticut, he warned them that the 
evacuation of Ticonderoga had opened a door by which the 
enemy, unless vigorously opposed, might penetrate the northern 
part of the State of New York, and the western parts of New 
Hampshire and Massachusetts, and, forming a junction with Gen. 
Howe, cut off the communication between the Eastern and Northern 
States. He added : "I trust that you will march with at least one- 
third of the militia under your command, and rendezvous at Sara- 
toga, unless directed to some other place by Gen. Schuyler or Gen. 
Arnold." He highly approved of a measure suggested by Schuyler, 
of stationing a body of troops somewhere about the Hampshire 
Grants (^^crmont), so as to be in the rear or on the flank of Bur- 
goyne, should he advance. It would make the latter, he said, very 
circumspect in his advances, if it did not entirely prevent them. It 
would keep him in continual anxiety for his rear, and oblige him 
to leave the posts behind him much stronger than he would other- 
wise do. The reader will find in the sequel what a propitious 
effect all these measures had upon the fortunes of the Northern 
campaign, and with what admirable foresight Washington calcu- 
lated all its chances. Due credit must also be given to the saga- 



I777-] THE BRITISH FLEET LEAVES NEW YORK. 321 

cious counsels and executive energy of Schuyler ; who suggested 
some of the best moves in the campaign, and carried them vigor- 
ously into action. Never was Washington more ably and loyally 
seconded by any of his generals. 

On the 23d of July, the fleet, so long the object of watchful 
solicitude, actually put to sea. The force embarked, according to 
subsequent accounts, consisted of thirty-six British and Hessian 
battalions, including the light infantry and grenadiers, with a 
powerful artillery ; a New York corps of provincials, or royaUsts, 
called the Queen's Rangers, and a regiment of light-horse ; 
between fifteen and eighteen thousand men in all. The force left 
with Gen. CHnton for the protection of New York consisted of 
seventeen battalions, a regiment of light-horse, and the remainder 
of the provincial corps. Washington now set out with his army for 
the Delaware, ordering Sullivan and StirHng with their divisions to 
cross the Hudson from Peekskill, and proceed toward Philadelphia. 
Every movement and order showed his doubt and perplexity, and 
the circumspection with which he had to proceed. On the 31st, 
he was informed that the enemy's fleet of two hundred and twenty- 
eight sail had arrived the day previous at the Capes of Delaware. 
The very next day came word, by express, that the fleet had again 
sailed out of the Capes, and apparently shaped its course east- 
ward. He wrote, to Gen. George CHnton, to reinforce Putnam 
with as many of the New York militia as could be collected. Clin- 
ton had just been installed Governor of the State of New York; the 
first person elevated to that office under the Constitution. He still 
continued in actual command of the militia of the State, and had 
determined to resume the command of Fort Montgomery in the 
Highlands. Washington requested Putnam to send an express to 
Governor Trumbull, urging assistance from the militia of his State 
without a moment's loss of time. "Connecticut cannot be in 
more danger through any channel than this, and every motive of 
its own interest and the general good demands its utmost endeavors 
to give you effectual assistance." Tliere could be no surer reliance 
for aid in time of danger than the partrotism of Gov. Trumbull ; 
nor were there men more ready to obey a sudden appeal to arms 
than the yeomanry of Connecticut ; however much their hearts 
might subsequently yearn toward the farms and firesides they had 
so promptly abandoned. No portion of the Union was more 
severely tasked, throughout the Revolution, for military services; 
and Washington avowed, when the great struggle was over, that, 
"if all the States had done their duty as well as the little State of 
Connecticut, the war would have been ended long ago." 

Washington remained at Germantown in painful uncertainty 
about the British fleet ; whether gone to the south or to the east ; and 
waited for further intelligence. Might it not be Howe's plan, by thus 
appearing with his ships at different places, to lure the army after 
him, and thereby leave the country open for Sir Henry Clinton 
with the troops at New York to form a junction with Burgoyne ? 
With this idea Washington wrote forthwith to the veteran Putnam 
to be on the alert ; collect all the force he could to strengthen his 
II 



322 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

post at Peekskill, and send down spies to ascertain whether Sir 
Henry Clinton was actually at New York, and what troops he had 
there. The old general, whose boast it was that he never slept but 
with one eye, was already on the alert. A circumstance had 
given him proof positive that Sir Henry was in New York, and 
had roused his mihtary ire. A spy, sent by that commander, had 
been detected furtively collecting information of the force and con- 
dition of the post at Peekskill, and had undergone a military trial. 
A vessel of war came up the Hudson in all haste, and landed a 
flag of truce at Verplanck's Point, by which a message was trans- 
mitted to Putnam from Sir Henr}" CHnton, claiming Edmund Pal- 
mer as a lieutenant in the British service. The reply of the old 
general was brief but emphatic : 

Headquarters, Ttli Aug., 1777. 
" EcImiuKl Palmer, an officer in the enemy's service, was taken as a spy 
lurking within our lines ; he has been tried as a spy, condemned as a spy, and 
shall be executed as a spy ; and the flag is ordered to depart immediately. 

*' Israel Putnam. 
" P. S.— He has, accordingly, been executed." 

One measure more was taken by Washington, during this inter-, 
val, in aid of the Northern department. The Indians who accom- 
panied Burgoyne were objects of great dread to the American 
troops, especially the mihtia. As a counterpoise to them, he now 
sent up Col. Morgan with five hundred riflemen, to fight them in 
their own way. " They are all chosen men," said he, " selected 
from the army at large, and well acquainted with the use of rifles 
and with that mode of fighting. I expect the most eminent 
services from them, and I shall be mistaken if their presence does 
not go far toward producing a general desertion among the 
savages." It was, indeed, an arm of strength, which he could but 
ill spare from his own army. He was thus, in a manner, carrying 
on two games at once, with Howe on the seaboard and Avith 
Burgoyne on the upper waters of the Hudson, and endeavoring by 
skillful movements to give check to both. It was an arduous and 
complicated task, especially with his scanty and fluctuating means, 
and the wide extent of country and great distances over which 
he had to move his men. His measures to throw a force in the 
rear of Burgoyne were now in a fair way of being carried into 
effect. Lincoln was at Bennington. Stark had joined him with 
a body of New Hampshire militia, and a corps of Massachusetts 
militia was arriving. " Such a force in his rear," observed Wash- 
ington, "will oblige Burgoyne to leave such strong posts behind 
as must make his main body very weak, and extremely capable 
of being repulsed by the force we have in front." 

During his encampment in the neighborhood of Philadelphia, 
Washington was repeatedly at that city, making himself acquainted 
with the military capabilities of the place and its surrounding 
country, and directing the construction of fortifications on the 
river. In one of these visits he became acquainted with the young 
Marquis de Lafayette, who had recently arrived from France, in 
company with a number of French, Polish, and German officers. 



1777-] MARQUIS DE LAFA YETTE, 323 

among whom was the Baron de Kalb. The marquis was not quite 
twenty years of age, yet had aheady been married nearly three 
years to a lady of rank and fortune. Full of the romance of 
liberty, he had torn himself from his youthful bride, turned his 
back upon the gayeties and splendors of a court, and in defiance 
of impediments and difficulties multiplied in his path, had made 
his way to America to join its hazardous fortunes. He sent in his 
letters of recommendation to Mr. Lovell, Chairman of the Com- 
mittee of Foreign Affairs ; and applied the next day at the door 
of Congress to know his success. Mr. Lovell came forth, and 
gave him but little encourgement ; Congress, in fact, was embar- 
rassed by the number of foreign applications, many without 
merit. Lafayette immediately sent in the following note : " After 
my sacrifices, I have the right to ask two favors ; one is to serve 
at my own expense ; the other, to commence by serving as a 
volunteer." This simple appeal had its eftect : it called attention 
to his peculiar case, and Congress resolved on the 31st of July, 
that in consideration of his zeal, his illustrious family and connec- 
tions, he should have the rank of major-general in the army of 
the United States. Lafayette from the first, attached himself to 
Washington with an affectionate reverence, the sincerity of which 
could not be mistaken, and soon won his way into a heart, which, 
with all its apparent coldness, was naturally confiding, and required 
sympathy and friendship ; and it is a picture well worthy to be 
hung up in history — this cordial and enduring alliance of the 
calm, dignified, sedate Washington, mature in years and wisdom, 
and the young, buoyant, enthusiastic Lafayette. 

The British fleet had entered the Chesapeake, and anchored at 
Swan's Point at least two hundred miles within the capes. Gen. 
Howe meant to reach Philadelphia by that route — "though," 
writes Washington, "it is a strange one." The several divisions 
of the army had been summoned to the immediate neighborhood 
of Philadelphia, and the militia of Pennsylvania, Delaware, and 
the northern parts of Virginia were called out. Many of the 
mihtia, with Colonel Proctor's corps of artillery, had been ordered 
to rendezvous at Chester on the Delaware, about twelve miles 
below Philadelphia; and by Washington's orders. Gen. Wayne 
left his brigade under the next in command, and repaired to Chester, 
to arrange the troops assembling there. As there had been much 
disaffection to the cause evinced in Philadelphia, Washington, in 
order to encourage its friends and dishearten its enemies, marched 
with the whole army through the city, down Front and up Chest- 
nut street. Great pains were taken to make the display as 
imposing as possible. All were charged to keep to their ranks, 
carry their arms well, and step in time to the music of the drums 
and fifes, collected in the center of each brigade. He rode at the 
head of the troops attended by his numerous staff, with the 
Marquis Lafayette by his side. The long column of the army, 
broken into divisions and brigades, the pioneers with their axes, 
the squadrons of horse, the extended trains of artillery, the tramp 
of steed, the bray of trumpet, and the spirit-stirring sound of 



324 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

drum and fife, all had an imposing effect on a peaceful city unused 
to the sight of marshaled armies. The disaffected, who had been 
taught to believe the American forces much less than they were 
in reality, were astonished as they gazed on the lengthening pro- 
cession of a host, which, to their unpracticed eyes, appeared 
innumerable ; while the whigs, gaining fresh hope and animation 
from the sight, cheered the patriot squadrons as they passed. 
Having marched through Philadelphia, the army continued on 
to Wilmington, at the confluence of Christiana Creek and the 
lirandywine, where Washington set up his headquarters, his troops 
being encamped on the neighboring heights. 

Burgoyne remained nearly three weeks at Skenesborough, await- 
ing the residue of his troops, with tents, baggage and provisions, 
and preparing for his grand move toward the Hudson River. 
Many royalists flocked to his standard. One of tlie most 
important was Major Skene, from whom the place was named, 
being its founder, and the owner of much land in its neighborhood. 
The progress of the army toward the Hudson was slow and diffi- 
cult. Bridges broken down had to be rebuilt ; great trees to be 
removed which had been felled across the roads and into Wood 
Creek, which stream was completely choked. It was not until 
the latter part of July that Burgoyne reached Fort Anne. At his 
approach, Gen. Schuyler retired from Fort Edward and took post 
at Fort Miller, a few miles lower down the Hudson. The Indian 
allies who had hitherto accompanied the British army, had been 
more troublesome than useful. Neither Burgoyne nor his officers 
understood their language, but were obliged to communicate with 
them through Canadian interpreters ; too often designing knaves, 
who played false to both parties. The Indians, too, were of the 
tribes of Lower Canada, corrupted and debased by intercourse 
with white men. It had been found difficult to draw them from 
the plunder of Ticonderoga, or to restrain their murderous pro- 
pensities. A party had recently arrived of a different stamp. 
Braves of the Ottawa and other tribes from the upper country ; 
painted and decorated with savage magnificence, and bearing 
trophies of former triump)hs. They were, in fact, according to 
Burgoyne, the very Indians who had aided the French in the 
defeat of Braddock, and were under the conduct of two French 
leaders ; one, named Langlade, had command of them on that 
very occasion ; the other, named St. Luc, is described by Bur- 
goyne as a Canadian gentleman of honor and abilities, and one 
of the best partisans of the French in the war of 1756. Burgoyne 
trusted to his newly arrived Indians to give a check to the opera- 
tions of Schuyler, knowing the terror they inspired throughout the 
country. He thought also to employ them in a wild foray to the 
Connecticut River, to force a supply of provisions, intercept rein- 
forcements to the American am:iy, and confirm the jealousy which 
he had, in many ways, endeavored to excite in the New England 
provinces. He was naturally a humane man, and disliked Indian 
allies, but these had hitherto served in company with civilized 
troops, and he trusted to the influence possessed over them by St, 



I777-] MURDER OF MISS McCREA, 325 

Luc and Langlade, to keep them within the usages of war. A cir- 
cumstance occurred, however, wliich showed how Uttle the " wild 
honor" of these warriors of the tomahawk is to be depended upon. 
In Gen. Eraser's division was a young officer, Lieut. David Jones, 
an American loyalist. His family had their home in the vicinity 
of Fort Edward before the Revolution. A mutual attachment 
had taken place between the youth and a beautiful girl, Jane Mc- 
Crea. She was the daughter of a Scotch Presbyterian clergyman 
of the Jerseys, sometime deceased, and resided with her brother 
on the banks of the Hudson a few miles below Fort Edward. 
The lovers were engaged to be married, when the breaking out of 
the war severed families and disturbed all the relations of life. 
The Joneses were royalists ; the brother of Miss McCrea was a 
stanch whig. The former removed to Canada, where David Jones 
was among the most respectable of those who joined the royal 
standard, and received a lieutenant's commission. The attach- 
ment between the lovers continued, and it is probable that a cor- 
respondence was kept up between them. Lieut. Jones was now in 
Eraser's camp; in his old neighborhood. Miss McCrea was on a 
visit to a widow lady, Mrs. O'Niel, residing at Fort Edward. The 
approach of Burgoyne's army had spread an alarm through the 
country ; the inhabitants were flying from their homes. The 
brother of Miss McCrea determined to move to Albany, and sent 
for his sister to return home and make ready to accompany him. 
She hesitated to obey. He sent a more urgent message, repre- 
senting the danger of lingering near the fort, which must inevit- 
ably fall into the hands of the enemy. Stili she lingered. The 
lady with whom she was a guest was a royalist, a friend of Gen. 
Eraser; her roof would be respected. Even should Fort Edward 
be captured, what had Jane to fear ? Her lover was in the Brit- 
ish camp ; the capture of the fort would reunite them. Her 
brother's messages now became peremptory. She prepared, 
reluctantly, to obey, and was to embark in a large bateau which 
was to convey several families down the river. The very morn- 
ing when the embarkation was to take place, the neighborhood 
was a scene of terror. A marauding party of Indians, sent out 
by Burgoyne to annoy Gen. Schuyler, were harassing the coun- 
try. Several of them burst into the house of Mrs. O'Neil, sacked 
and plundered it, and carried off her and Miss McCrea prisoners. 
In her fright the latter promised the savages a large reward, if 
they would spare her life and take her in safety to the British camp. 
It was a fatal promise. Halting at a spring, a quarrel arose 
among the savages, inflamed most probably with drink, as to whose 
prize she was, and who was entitled to the reward. The dispute 
became furious, and one, in a paroxysm of rage, killed her on the 
spot. He completed the savage act by bearing ofl" her scalp as a 
trophy. Gen. Burgoyne was struck with horror when he heard of 
this bloody deed. What at first heightened the atrocity was a 
report thatthe Indians had been sent by Lieut. Jones to bring Miss 
McCrea to the camp. This he positively denied, and his denial 
was believed. Burgoyne summoned a council of the Indian 



326 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

chiefs, in which he insisted that the murderer of Miss McCrea 
should be given up to receive the reward of his crime. The 
demand produced a violent agitation. The culprit was a great 
warrior, a chief, and the " wild honor" of his brother sachems was 
roused in his behalf. Burgoyne was reluctantly brought to spare 
the offender. The mischief to the British cause, however, had 
been effected. The murder of Miss McCrea resounded through- 
out the land, counteracting all the benefit anticipated from the 
terror of Indian hostilities. Those people of the frontiers, who 
had hitherto remained quiet, now flew to arms to defend their fam- 
ilies and firesides. In their exasperation they looked beyond the 
savages to their employers. They abhorred an army, which, pro- 
fessing to be civilized, could league itself with such barbarians ; 
and they execrated a government, which, pretending to reclaim 
them as subjects, could let loose such fiends to desolate their 
homes. The blood of this unfortunate girl, therefore, was not 
shed in vain. Armies sprang up from it. Her name passed as a 
note of alarm, along the banks of the Hudson ; it was a rallying 
word among the Green Mountains of Vermont, and brought down 
all their hardy yeomanry. The sad story of Miss McCrea, like 
many other incidents of the Revolution, has been related in such 
a variety of ways, and so wrought up by tradition, that it is difficult 
now to get at the simple truth. Some of the above circumstances 
were derived from a niece of Miss McCrea, whom the author met 
upward of fifty years since, at her residence on the banks of the St. 
Lawrence. A stone, with her name cut on it, still marks the grave 
of ]\Iiss McCrea near the ruins of Fort Edward ; and a tree is 
pointed out near which she was murdered. Lieutenant Jones is 
said to have been completely broken in spirit by the shock of her 
death. Procuring her scalp, with its long silken tresses, he brooded 
over it in anguish, and preserved it as a sad, but precious relic. 
Disgusted with the service, he threw up his commission, and retired 
to Canada ; never marrying, but living to be an old man: taciturn 
and melancholy, and haunted by painful recollections. 

As Burgoyne advanced to Fort Edward, Schuyler fell still 
further back, and took post at Saratoga, or rather Stillwater, about 
thirty miles from Albany. He had been joined by Major-General 
Lincoln. In pursuance of Washington's plans, Lincoln proceeded 
to Manchester in Vermont, to take command of the militia forces 
collecting at that point. His presence inspired new confidence in 
the country people, who were abandoning their homes, leaving 
their crops ungathered, and taking refuge with their famiHes in the 
lower towns. He found about five hundred militia assembled at 
Manchester, underCol. Seth Warner ; others were coming on from 
New Hampshire and Massachusetts, to protect their uncovered 
frontier. His letters dated the 4th of August, expressed the expec- 
tation of being, in a few days, at the head of at least two thousand 
men. With these, according to Washington's plan, he was to 
hang on the flank and rear of Burgoyne's army, cramp its move- 
ments, and watch for an opportunity to strike a I3I0W. 

Burgoyne was now at Fort Edward. His Indian allies resented 



1777.] BURGOYNE AT FORT EDWARD. 327 

his conduct in regard to the affair of Miss McCrea, and were impa- 
tient under the restraint to which they were subjected. He sus- 
pected the Canadian interpreters of fomenting this discontent ; 
they being accustomed to profit by the rapine of the Indians. At 
the earnest request of St. Luc, in whom he still had confidence, he 
called a council of the chiefs ; when, to his astonishment, the 
tribe for whom that gentleman acted as interpreter, declared their 
intention of returning home, and demanded his concurrence and 
assistance. Burgoyne was greatly embarrassed. Should he 
acquiesce, it would be to relinquish the aid of a force obtained at 
an immense expense, esteemed in England of great importance, 
and which really was serviceable in furnishing scouts and outposts ; 
yet he saw that a cordial reconciliation with them could only be 
effected by revoking his prohibitions, and indulging their propen- 
sities to blood and rapine. He persisted in the restraints he had 
imposed upon them, but appealed to the wild honor, of which he 
yet considered them capable, by urging the ties of faith, of gener- 
osity, of everything that has an influence with civilized man. His 
speech appeared to have a good effect. Some of the remote tribes 
made zealous jDrofessions of loyalty and adhesion. Others, of 
Lower Canada, only asked furloughs for parties to return home 
and gather in their harvests. These were readily granted, and 
perfect harmony seemed restored. The next day, however, the 
chivalry of the wilderness deserted by scores, laden with such spoil 
as they had collected in their maraudings. These desertions con- 
tinued from day to day, until there remained in the camp scarce a 
vestige of the savage warriors that had joined the army at Skenes* 
borough. 

New difficulties beset Burgoyne at Fort Edward. He had not 
the requisite supply of horses and oxen. So far from being able 
to bring forward provisions for a march ; it was wiih difficulty- 
enough could be furnished to feed the army from day to day. He 
received intelligence that the part of his army which he had 
detached from Canada under Col. St. Leger, to proceed to Lake 
Ontario and Oswego and make a diversion on the Mohawk, had 
penetrated to that river, and were actually investing Fort Stanwix, 
the stronghold of that part of the country. To carry out the orig- 
inal plan of his campaign, it now behooved him to make a rapid 
move down the Hudson, so as to be at hand to cooperate with St. 
Leger on his approach to Albany. But how was he to do this, 
deficient as he was in horses and vehicles for transportation .'* In 
this dilemma Colonel (late major) Skene informed him that at Ben- 
nington, about twenty-four miles east of the Hudson, the Ameri- 
cans had a great depot of horses, carriages, and supplies of all 
kinds, intended for their Northern army. An expedition was im- 
mediately set on foot ; not only to surprise the place, but to scour 
the country from Rockingham to Otter Creek ; go down the Con- 
necticut as far as Brattleborough, and return by the great road to 
Albany, there to meet Burgoyne. They were everywhere to give 
out that this was the vanguard of the British army, which would 



328 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

soon follow on its way to Boston, and would be joined by the army 
from Rhode Island. 

Fort Schuyler, built in I756, and formerly called Fort Stanwix, 
and now invested by the detachment under St. Lcger, had been 
repaired by order of General Schuyler, and was garrisoned by 
seven hundred and fifty Continental troops from New York and 
Massachusetts, under Col. Gansevoort of the New York line, a 
stout-hearted t^fficer of Dutch descent, who had served under Gen. 
Montgomery in Canada. It was a motley force which appeared 
before it; British, Hessian, Royalist, Canadian and Indian, about 
seventeen hundred in all. Among them were St. Leger's rangers 
and Sir John Johnson's royalist corps, called his greens. Many of 
the latter had followed Sir John into Canada from the valley of the 
Mohawk, and were now returned to bring the horrors of war 
among their former neighbors. The Indians, their worthy allies, 
were led by the famous Brant. On the 3d of August, St. Leger 
sent in a flag with a summons to surrender ; accompanied by a 
proclamation in style and spirit similar to that recently issued by 
Burgoyne, and intended to operate on the garrison. Both his sum- 
mons and his proclamation were disregarded. He now set his 
troops to work to fortify his camp and clear obstructions from 
Wood Creek and the roads, for the transportation of artillery and 
provisions, and sent out scouting parties of Indians in all direc- 
tions, to cut off all communication of the garrison with the sur- 
rounding country. A few shells were thrown into the fort. The 
chief annoyance of the garrison was from the Indians firing with 
their rifles from behind trees on those busied in repairing the para- 
pets. At night they seemed completely to surround the fort, filling 
the woods with their yells and bowlings. On the 6th of August, 
three men made their way into the fort through a swamp, which 
the enemy had deemed impassable. They brought the cheering 
intelligence that Gen. Herkimer, the veteran commander of the 
militia of Tryon County, was at Oriskany, about eight miles dis- 
tant, with upward of eight hundred men. The people of that 
county were many of them of German origin ; some of them Ger- 
mans by birth. Herkimer was among the former ; a large and 
powerful man, about sixty-five years of age. He requested Col. 
Gansevoort, through his two messengers, to fire three signal-guns 
on receiving word of his vicinage; upon hearing which, he would 
endeavor to force his way to the fort, depending upon the cooper- 
ration of the grrrison. The messengers had been dispatched by 
Herkimer on the evening of the 5th, and he had calculated that 
they would reach the fort at a very early hour in the morning. 
Through some delay, they did not reach it until between ten and 
eleven o'clock. Gansevoort instantly complied with the message. 
Three signal-guns were fired, and Col, Willett, of the New York 
Continentals, with two hundred and fifty men and an iron three- 
pounder, was detached to make a diversion, by attacking that 
part of the enemy's camp occupied by Johnson and his royal- 
ists. The delay of the messengers in the night, however, dis- 
concerted the plan of Herkimer. He marshaled his troops by 



1777.1 BATTLE OF O RISK ANY. 329 

daybreak and waited for the signal-guns. Hour after hour 
elapsed, but no gun was heard. His officers became impatient 
of delay, and urged an immediate march. Herkimer represented 
that they were too weak to force their way to the fort without 
reinforcements, or without being sure of cooperation from the 
garrison, and was still for waiting the preconcerted signals. 
About ten o'clock they came to a place where the road was car- 
ried on a causeway of logs across a deep marshy ravine, between 
high level banks. The main division descended into the ravine, 
followed by the baggage-wagons. They had scarcely crossed 
it, when enemies suddenly sprang up in front and on either side, 
with deadly volleys of musketry, and deafening yells and war- 
whoops. In fact, St. Leger, apprised by his scouts of their 
intended approach, had sent a force to waylay them. The sav- 
ages discharged their rifles simultaneously with the troops, and 
instantly rushed forward with spears and tomahawks, yelling like 
demons, and commencing a dreadful butchery. The rear-guard, 
which had not entered the ravine, retreated. The main body, 
tliough thrown into confusion, defended themselves bravely. 
One of those severe conflicts ensued, common in Indian warfare, 
where the combatants take post with their rifles, behind rock and 
tree, or come to deadly struggle with knife and tomahawk. The 
veteran Herkimer was wounded early in the action. A musket 
ball shattered his leg just below the knee, killing his horse at the 
same time. He made his men place him on his saddle at the 
foot of a large beech tree, against the trunk of which he leaned, 
continuing to give his orders. The regulars attempted to charge 
with the bayonet ; but the Americans formed themselves in cir- 
cles back to back, and repelled them. A heavy storm of thun- 
der and rain caused a temporary lull to the fight, during which 
the patriots changed their ground. Some of them stationed them- 
selves in pairs behind trees ; so that when one had fired the 
other could cover him until he had reloaded ; for the savages 
were apt to rush up with knife and tomahawk the moment a 
man had discharged his piece. Old neighbors met in deadly 
feud ; former intimacy gave bitterness to present hate, and war 
was literally carried to the knife ; for the bodies of combatants 
were afterward found on the field of battle, grappled in death, 
with the hand still grasping the knife plunged in a neighbor's 
heart. 

The Indians, at length, having lost many of their bravest war- 
riors, gave the retreating cry, Oonah ! Oonah ! and fled to the 
woods. The greens and rangers, hearing a firing in the direction 
of the fort, feared an attack upon their camp, and hastened to its 
defence, carrying off with them many prisoners. The Americans 
did not pursue them, but placing their wounded on litters made of 
branches of trees, returned to Oriskany. They had two hundred 
killed, and a number wounded. Several of these were officers. 
The loss of the enemy is thought to have been equally great as to 
numbers ; but then the difference in value between regulars and 
militia! the former often the refuse of mankind, mere hirelings, 



330 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

whereas among the privates of the militia, called out from their 
homes to defend the-ir neighborhood, were many of the worthiest 
and most valuable of the yeomanry. The premature haste of the 
Indians in attacking, had saved the Americans from being com- 
pletely surrounded. The rear-guard, not having entered the 
dehle, turned and made a rapid retreat, but were pursued by the 
Indians and suffered greatly in a running fight. As to Gen. Her- 
kimer, he was conveyed to his residence on the Mohawk River, 
and died nine days after the battle, not so much from his wounds 
as from bad surgery ; sinking gradually through loss of blood from 
an unskillful amputation. He died hke a philosopher and a Chris- 
tian, smoking his pipe and reading his Bible to the last. His 
name has been given to a county in that part of the State. 
The sortie of Col. Willett had been spirited and successful. He 
attacked the encampments of Sir John Johnson and the Indians, 
which were contiguous, and strong detachments of which were 
absent on the ambuscade. Sir John and his men were driven to 
the river ; the Indians fled to the woods. Willett sacked their 
camps ; loaded wagons with camp equipage, clothing, blankets, 
and stores of all kinds, seized the baggage and papers of Sir John and 
of several of his officers, and retreated safely to the fort, just as St. 
Legerwas coming up with a powerful reinforcement. Five colors, 
which he had brought away with him as trophies, were displayed 
under the flag of the fort, while his men gave three cheers from 
the ramparts. St. Leger now began to lose heart. The fort 
proved more capable of defence than he had anticipated. His 
artillery was too light, and the ramparts, being of sod, were not 
easily battered. He was obliged reluctantly to resort to the slow 
process of sapping and mining, and began to make regular 
approaches. Ganesvoort, seeing the siege was likely to be pro- 
tracted, resolved to send to Gen. Schuyler for succor. Col. Wil- 
lett volunteered to undertake the perilous errand. He was accom- 
panied by Lieut. Stockwcll, an excellent w^oodsman, who served 
as a guide. They left the fort on the loth, after dark, by a sally- 
port, passed by the British sentinels and close by the Indian camp, 
without being discovered, and made their way through bog and 
morass and pathless forests, and all kind of risks and hardships, 
until they reached the German Flats on the Mohawk. Here Wil- 
lett procured a couple of horses, and by dint of hoof arrived at 
the camp of Gen. Schuyler at Stillwater. 

Schuyler was in Albany in the early part of August, making 
stirring appeals in every direction for reinforcements. Burgoyne 
was advancing upon him ; he had received news ot the disastrous 
affair of Oriskany, and the death of Gen. Herkimer, and Tryon 
County was crying to him for assistance. One of his appeals was to 
the veteran John Stark, the comrade of Putnam in the French 
war and the Battle of Bunker's Hill. He had his farm in the 
Hampshire Grants, and his name was a tower of strength among 
the Green Mountain Boys. But Stark was soured with govern- 
ment, and had retired from service, his name having been omitted 
in the hst of promotions. Schuyler was about to mount his horse 



1 ^7^^:\ benning ton no t surprised. 33 1 

on the loth, to return to the camp at Stillwater, when a dispatch 
from Congress was put into his hand containing the resolves which 
recalled him to attend a court of inquiry about the affair of Ticon- 
deroga, and requested Washington to appoint an officer to succeed 
him. He felt deeply the indignity of being thus recalled at a time 
when an engagement was apparently at hand ; in the meantime he 
considered it his duty to remain at his post until his successor 
should arrive, or some officer in the department be nominated to 
the command • Returning, therefore, to the camp at Stillwater, he 
continued to conduct the affairs of the army with unremitting zeal. 
His first care was to send relief to Gansevoort and his beleaguered 
garrison. Eight hundred men were all that he could spare from 
his army in its present threatened state. Arnold was in camp; 
recently sent on as an efficient coadjutor, by Washington; he was 
in a state of exasperation against the government, having just 
learned that the question of rank had been decided against him in 
Congress. Indeed, he would have retired instantly from the ser- 
vice, had not Schuyler prevailed on him to remain until the 
impending danger was over. The opportunity of an exploit flashed 
on his adventurous spirit. He stepped promptly forward and*vol- 
unteered to lead detachments for the relief of Fort Schuyler. 

Bennington was a central place, whither the live stock was 
driven from various parts of the Hampshire Grants, and whence 
the American army derived its supplies. It was a great deposit, 
also, of grain of various kinds, and of wheel carriages ; the usual 
guard was militia, varying from day to day. Bennington was to 
be surprised. The country was to be scoured from Rockingham 
to Otter Creek in quest of provisions for the army, horses and oxen 
for draft, and horses for the cavalry. All public magazines were 
to be sacked. All cattle belonging to royalists, and which could 
be spared by their owners, were to be paid for. All rebel flocks and 
herds were to be driven away. Lieut. -Colonel Baum was to com- 
mand the detachment. He had under him, according to Burgoyne, 
two hundred dismounted dragoons of the regiment of Riedesel, Capt. 
Fraser's marksmen, which were the only British, all the Canadian vol- 
unteers, a party of the provincials who perfectly knew the country, 
one hundred Indians, and two light pieces of cannon. The whole 
detachment amounted to about five hundred men. The dragoons, 
it was expected, would supply themselves with horses in the course 
of the foray ; and a skeleton corps of royalists would be filled up 
by recruits. The Germans had no great liking for the Indians as 
fellow-campaigners ; especially those who had come from Upper 
Canada under St. Luc. " These savages are heathens, huge, war- 
like and enterprising, but wicked as Satan," writes a Hessian 
officer. "Some say they are cannibals, but I do not believe it; 
though in their fury they will tear the flesh off their enemies with 
their teeth. They have a martial air, and their wild ornaments 
become them." The choice of German troops for this foray was 
much sneered at by the British officers. " A corps could not have 
been found in the whole army," said theyi "so unfit for a service 
requiring rapidity of motion, as Riedesel's dragoons. The very 



332 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

hat and sword of one of them weighed nearly as much as the 
whole equipment of a British soldier. The worst British regiment 
in the service would march two miles to their one." To be near at 
hand in case assistance should be required, Burgoyne encamped 
on the east side of the Hudson, nearly opposite Saratoga, throw- 
ing over a bridge of boats by which Gen. Fraser, with the advanced 
guard, crossed to that place. Col. Baum set out from camp at 
break of day, on the 13th of August. All that had been predicted 
of his movements was verified. The badness of «the road, the 
excessive heat, of the weather, and the want of carriages and 
horses were alleged in excuse; but slow and unapt men ever meet 
with impediments. Some cattle, carts and wagons were captured 
at Cambridge ; a few horses also were brought in; but the Indians 
killed or drove off all that fell into their hands, unless they were 
paid in cash for their prizes. Baum was too slow a man to take a 
place by surprise. The people of Bennington heard of his 
approach and were on the alert. The veteran Stark was there with 
eight or nine hundred troops. During the late alarms the militia 
of the State had been formed into two brigades, one to be com- 
manded by Gen. William Whipple ; Stark had with difficulty been 
prevailed upon to accept the command of the other, upon the 
express condition that he should not be obliged to join the main 
army, but should be left to his own discretion, to make war in his 
own partisan style, hovering about the enemy in their march through 
the country, and accountable to none but the authorities of New 
Hampshire. Having heard that Indians had appeared at Cam- 
bridge, twelve miles to the north of Bennington, on the 13th, he 
sent out two hundred men under Col. Gregg in quest of them. In 
the course of the night he learned that they were mere scouts in 
advance of a force marching upon Bennington. He immediately 
rallied his brigade, called out the militia of the neighborhood, and 
sent off for Col. Seth Warner (the quondam associate of Ethan 
Allen) and his regiment of militia, who were with Gen. Lincoln at 
Manchester. Warner and his men marched all night through 
drenching rain, aniving at Stark's camp in the morning, drip- 
ping wet. Stark left them at Bennington to dry and rest them- 
selves, and then to follow on; in the meantime, he pushed forward 
with his men to support the party sent out the preceding day, 
under Gregg, in quest of the Indians. He met them about five 
miles off, in full retreat, Baum and his force a mile in their rear. 
Stark halted and prepared for action. Baum also halted ; posted 
himself on a high ground at a bend of the little river Walloom- 
scoick, and began to intrench himself. Stark fell back a mile, to 
wait for reinforcements and draw down Baum from his strong posi- 
tion. A skirmish took place between the advance guards ; thirty 
of Baum's men were killed and two Indian chiefs. An incessant 
rain on the 15th, prevented an attack on Baum's camp, but there 
was continual skirmishing. The colonel strengthened his intrench- 
ments, and finding he had a larger force to contend with than 
he had anticipated, sent off in all haste to Burgoyne for reinforce- 
ments. Col. Jheyman marched off immediately, with five hundred 



I777.J MOLLY STARK NOT A HTDOIK 333 

Hessian grenadiers and infantry and two six-pounders, leaving 
behind him his tents, baggage, and standards. He, also, found 
the roads so deep, and the horses so bad, that he was nearly two 
days getting four and twenty miles. In the meantime the more 
alert and active Americans had been mustering from all quarters 
to Stark's assistance, with such weapons as they had at hand. 
During the night of the 15th, Col. Symonds arrived with a body of 
Berkshire militia. Among them was a belligerent parson, full of 
fight, Allen by name, possibly of the bellicose family of the hero 
of Ticonderoga. "General," cried he, "the people of Berkshire 
have been often called out to no purpose; if you don't give them a 
chance to fight now they will never turn out again." " You would 
not turn out now, while it is dark and raining, would you?" 
demanded Stark. "Not just now," was the reply. "Well, if 
the Lord should once more give us sunshine, and I don't give you 
fighting enough," rejoined the veteran, "I'll never ask you to turn 
out again." On the following morning the sun shone bright, and 
Stark prepared to attack Baum in his intrenchments; though he 
had no artillery, and his men, for the most part, had only their 
ordinary brown firelocks without bayonets. Two hundred of his 
men, under Col. Nichols, were detached to the rear of the enemy's 
left ; three hundred under Col. Herrick, to the rear of his right ; 
they were to join their forces and attack him in the rear, while 
Colonels Hubbard and Stickney, with two hundred men, diverted 
his attention in front. Col. Skene and the royalists, when they saw 
the Americans issuing out of the woods on different sides, per- 
suaded themselves, and endeavored to persuade Baum, that these 
were the loyal people of the country flocking to his standard. The 
Indians were the first to discover the truth. " The woods are full of 
Yankees," cried they, and retreated in single file between the troops 
of Nichols and Herrick, yelling like demons and jinghng cow bells. 
Several of them, however, were killed or Avounded as they thus 
ran the gauntlet. At the first sound of fire-arms, Stark, who had 
remained with the main body in camp, mounted his horse and gave 
the word, forward ! He had promised his men the plunder of the 
British camp. The homely speech made by him Avhen in sight of 
the enemy, has often been cited. " Now, my men! There are the 
red coats ! Before night they must be ours, or Molly Stark will be 
a widow! " Baum soon found himself assailed on every side, but 
he defended his works bravely. His two pieces of artillery, advan- 
tageously planted, were very effective, and his troops, if slow in 
march, were steady in action. For two hours the discharge of fire- 
arms was said to have been like the constant rattling of the drum. 
Stark in his dispatches compared it to a " continued clap of thun- 
der." It was the hottest fight he had ever seen. He inspired his 
men with his own impetuosity. They drove the royalist troops 
upon the Hessians, and pressing after them stormed the works with 
irresistible fury. A Hessian eye-witness declares that this time the 
rebels fought with desperation, pressing within eight paces of the 
loaded cannon to take surer aim at the artillerists. The latter were 
slain ; the cannon captured. The royalists and Canadians took to 



334 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

flight, and escaped to the woods. The Germans st'.Il kept their 
giound, and fought bravely until there was not a cartridge left. 
Baum and his dragoons then took to their broadswords and the 
infantry to their bayonets, and endeavored to cut their -way to a 
road in the woods, but in vain ; many were killed, more wounded, 
Baum among the number, and all who survived were taken prison- 
ers. The victors now dispersed, some to collect booty, some to 
attend to the wounded, some to guard the prisoners, and some to 
seek refreshment, being exhausted by hunger and fatigue. At this 
critical juncture, Breyman's tardy reinforcement came, making its 
way heavily and slowly to the scene of action, joined by many of the 
enemy who had fled. Attempts were made to rally the mihda ; 
but they were in complete confusion. Nothing would have saved 
them from defeat, had not Col. Scth Warner's corps fortunately 
arrived from Bennington, fresh from repose, and advanced to meet 
the enemy, while the others regained their ranks. It was four 
o'clock in the afternoon when this second action commenced. It 
was fought from wood to wood and hill to hill, for several miles, 
until sunset. The last stand of the enemy was at Van Schaick's 
mill, where, having expended all their ammunition, of which each 
man had forty rounds, they gave way, and retreated, under favor 
of the night, leaving two field-pieces and all their baggage in the 
hands of the Americans. Stark ceased to pursue them, lest in the 
darkness his men should fire upon each odier. " Another hour of 
daylight, said he in his report, " and I should have captured the 
whole body." The veteran had had a horse shot under him, but 
escaped without wound or bruise. Four brass field-pieces, nine 
hundred dragoon swords, a thousand stand of arms, and four 
ammunition wagons were the spoils of this victory. Thirty-two 
officers, five hundred and sixty-four privates, including Canadians 
and loyalists, were taken prisoners. The number of slain was very 
considerable, but could not be ascertained; many having fallen in 
the w oods. The brave but unfortunate Baum did not long survive. 
The Americans had one hundred killed and wounded. Burgoyne 
was awakened in his camp toward daylight of the 17th, by tidings 
that Col. Baum had surrendered. Next came word that Col. 
Breyman was engaged in severe and doubtful conflict. The 47th 
regiment pushed forward until 4 o'clock, when they met Breyman 
and his troops, weary and haggard with hard fighting and hard 
marching, in hot weather. In the evening all returned to their old 
encampments. 

Gen. Schuyler was encamped on Van Schaick's Island at the 
mouth of the Mohawk River, when a letter from Gen. Lincoln, 
dated Bennington, Aug. i8th, informed him of "the capital blow 
given the enemy by Gen, Stark." Tidings of the affair reached 
Washington, just before he moved his camp from the neighbor- 
hood of Philadelphia to Wilmington, and it reheved his mind from 
a world of anxious perplexity. In a letter to Putnam he writes, 
•' As there is not now the least danger of Gen. How e's going to 
New England, I hope the whole force of that country will turnout, 
and by following the great stroke struck by Gen. Stark near Ben- 



177/.] VAN YOST CREATES A PANIC, 



335 



nington, entirely crush General Burgoyne, who by his letter to Col, 
Baum, seems to be in want of almost everything." 

Arnold's march to the relief of Fort Stanwix was slower than 
suited his ardent and impatient spirit. He was detained in the 
valley of the Mohawk by bad roads, by the necessity of waiting 
for the baggage and ammunition wagons, and for militia recruits, 
who turned out reluctantly. He sent missives to Col. Gansevoort, 
assuring him that he would relieve him in the course of a few days. 
*' Be under no kind of apprehension," writes he. " I know the strength 
of the enemy, and how to d^aliuith ihcmj" In fact, conscious of the 
smaUness of his force, he had resorted to stratagem, sending emis- 
saries ahead to spread exaggerated reports of the number of his 
troops, so as to work on the fears of the enemy's Indian allies and 
induce them to desert The most important of these emissaries 
was one Yan Yost Cuyler, an eccentric half-witted fellow, known 
throughout the country as a rank tory. He had been convicted 
as a spy, and only spared from the halter on the condition that he 
would go into St Leger's camp, and spread alarming reports 
among the Indians, by whom he was well known. To insure a 
faithful discharge of his mission, Arnold detained his brother as a 
hostage. On his way up the Mohawk Valley, Arnold was joined 
by a New York regiment, under CoL James Livingston, sent by 
Gates to reinforce him. On arriving at the German Flats he 
received an express from CoL Gansevoort, informing him that 
he was still besieged, but in high spirits and under no apprehen- 
sions. All this while St. Leger was advancing his parallels and 
pressing the siege ; while provisions and ammunition were rapidly 
decreasing within the fort. His Indian allies, however, were grow- 
ing sullen and intractable. This slow kind of warfare, this war 
■with the spade, they were unaccustomed to, and they by no means 
relished it. Besides, they had been led to expect easy times, little 
fighting, many scalps, and much plunder; whereas they had 
fought hard, lost many of their best chiefs, been checked in their 
cruelty, and gained no booty. By this time rumors stole into 
the camp doubling the number of the approaching enemy, Bur- 
goyne's whole army were said to have been defeated. Lastly 
came Yan Yost Cuyler, with his coat full of bullet holes, giving out 
that he had escaped from the hands of the Americans, and had 
been fired upon by them. His story was believed, for his wounded 
coat corroborated it, and he was known to be a royalist. Minghng 
among his old acquaintances, the Indians, he assured them that 
the Americans were close at hand and " numerous as the leaves 
on the trees." The Indians, fickle as the winds, began to desert 
Sir John Johnson and Colonels Claus and Butler endeavored in 
vain to reassure and retain them. In a little while two hundred 
had decamped, and the rest threatened to do so likewise, unless 
St. Leger retreated. The unfortunate colonel found too late what 
little reliance was to be placed upon Indian allies. He determined 
on the 22d to send off his sick, his wounded, and his artillery by 
Wood Creek that very night, and to protect them by the line of 
march. The Jndians, however, goaded on by Arnold's emissaries, 



336 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

insisted on instant retreat. St. Leger still refused to depart 
before nightfall. The savages now became ungovernable. They 
seized upon liquor of the officers about to be embarked, and 
getting intoxicated, behaved like very fiends. St. Leger was 
obliged to decamp about noon, in such hurry and confusion that 
he left his tents standing ; and his artillery, with most of his baggage, 
ammunition and stores, fell into the hands of the Americans. A 
detachment from the garrison pursued and harassed him for a time ; 
but his greatest annoyance was from his Indian allies, who plun- 
dered the boats which conveyed such baggage as had been 
brought off ; murdered all stragglers who lagged in the rear, and 
amused themselves by giving false alarms to keep up the panic of the 
soldiery ; who would throw away muskets, knapsacks, and every- 
thing that impeded their flight. Such was the second blow to Bur- 
goyne's invading army ; but before the news of it reached that 
doomed commander, he had already been half paralyzed by the 
disaster at Bennington. The moral effect of these two blows was 
such as Washington had predicted. Fortune, so long adverse, 
seemed at length to have taken a favorable turn. People were 
roused from their despondency. There was a sudden exultation 
throughout the country. The savages had disappeared in their 
native forests. The German veterans, so much vaunted and 
dreaded, had been vanquished by militia, and British artillery 
captured by men, some of whom had never seen a cannon. 

Cleans were now augmenting in Schuyler's hand. Colonels 
Livingston and Pierre van Courtlandt, forwarded by Putnam, were 
arrived. Gov. Clinton was daily expected with New York militia 
from the Highlands. The arrival of Arnold was anticipated with 
troops and artillery, and Lincoln with the New England militia. 
At this propitious moment, when everything was ready for the 
sickle to be put into the harvest. Gen. Gates arrived in the camp. 
Schuyler received him with noble courtesy. After acquainting 
him with all the affairs of the department, the measures he had 
taken and those he had projected ; he informed him of his hav- 
ing signified lo Congress his intention to remain in that quarter 
for the present, and render every service in his power ; and he 
entreated Gates to call upon him for council and assistance when- 
ever he thought proper. 

Gates was in high spirits. His letters to Washington show how 
completely he was aware that an easy path of victory had been 
opened for him. "Upon my leaving Philadelphia," writes he, 
" the prospect this way appeared most gloomy, but the severe 
checks the enemy have met with at Bennington and Tryon County, 
have given a more pleasing view of public affairs. I cannot suffi- 
ciently thank your Excellency for sending Col. Morgan's corps to 
this army. They will be of the greatest service to it ; for, until 
the late success this way, I am told the army were quite panic- 
struck by the Indians, and their tory and Canadian assassins in 
Indian dress." Not a word does he say of consulting Schuyler, 
who, more than any one else, was acquainted with the department 
and its concerns, who was in constant correspondence with Wash. 



1777] PHILADELPHIA ATTACKED. 337 

ington, and had cooperated with him in effecting the measures 
which had produced the present promising situation of affairs. 



CHAPTER XV. 

WASHINGTON AND HOWE — CAPTURE OF PHILADELPHIA. 

On the 25th of August, the British army under Gen. Howe began 
to land from the fleet in Elk River, at the bottom of the Chesa- 
peake Bay. The place where they landed was about six miles 
below the Head of Elk (now Elkton), a small town, the capital of 
Cecil County. This was seventy miles from Philadelphia ; ten 
miles further from that city than they had been when encamped 
at Brunswick. The intervening country, too, was less open than 
the Jerseys, and cut up by deep streams. Sir William had chosen 
this circuitous route in the expectation of finding friends among the 
people of Cecil County, and of the lower counties of Pennsylvania ; 
many of whom were Quakers and non combatants, and many per- 
sons disaffected to the patriot cause. Early in the evening, 
Washington received intelligence that the enemy were landing. 
There was a quantity of public and private stores at the 
Head of Elk, which he feared would fall into their hands if 
they moved quickly. Every attempt was to be made to check 
them. The divisions of Generals Greene and Stephen were within 
a few miles of Wilmington ; orders were sent for them to march 
thither immediately. The two other divisions, which had halted 
at Chester to refresh, were to hurry forward. Gen. Rodney, who 
commanded the Delaware militia, was ordered to throw out scouts 
and patrols toward the enemy, to watch their motions ; and to 
move near them with his troops, as soon as he should be reinforced 
by the Maryland militia. Light troops were sent out early in the 
morning to hover about and harass the invaders. Washington 
himself, accompanied by Gen. Greene and the Marquis de Lafay- 
ette and their aides, rode forth to reconnoiter the country in the 
neighborhood of the enemy, and determine how to dispose of his 
forces when they should be collected. Hours were passed in riding 
from place to place reconnoitering, and taking a military survey 
of the surrounding country. At length a severe storm drove the 
party to take shelter in a farm-house. Night came on dark and 
stormy. Washington showed no disposition to depart. His com- 
panions became alarmed for his safety ; there was risk of his being 
surprised, being so near the enemy's camp ; he was not to be moved 
either by advice or entreaties, but remained all night under the 
farmer's roof. When he left the house at daybreak, however, says 
Layfayette, he acknowledged his imprudence, and that the most 
insignificant traitor might have caused his ruin. The country was 
in a great state of alarm. The inhabitants \ver<j hurrying off their 



338 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

most valuable effects, so that it was difficult to procure cattle and 
vehicles to remove the public stores. The want of horses, and the 
annoyances given by the American light troops, however, kept 
Howe from advancing promptly, and gave time for the greater part 
of the stores to be saved. 

The divisions of Generals Greene and Stephen were now sta- 
tioned several miles in advance of Wilmington, behind White Clay 
Creek, about ten miles from the Head of Elk. Gen. Smallwood 
and Col. Gist had been directed by Congress to take command of 
the militia of Maryland, who were gathering on the western shore, 
and Washington sent them orders to cooperate with Gen. Rodney 
and get in the rear of the enemy. He formed a corps of light 
troops, by drafting a hundred men from each brigade. The com- 
mand was given to Maj.-Gen. Maxwell, who was to hover about 
the enemy and give them continual annoyance. 

The anny was increased by the arrival of Gen. Sullivan and his div- 
ision of three thousand men. At this time Henry Lee of Virginia, of 
military renown, makes his first appearance. He was in the twenty- 
second year of his age, and in the preceding year had commanded a 
company of Virginia volunteers. He had recently signalized him- 
self in scouting parties, harassing the enemy's pickets. Washing- 
ton, in a letter to the President of Congress (Aug. 30th), writes : 
**This minute twenty-four British prisoners arrived, taken yesterday 
by Captain Lee of the light-horse." His adventurous exploits 
soon won him notoriety, and the popular appellation of "Light- 
horse Harry." He was favorably noticed by Washington 
throughout the war. Perhaps there was something beside his bold, 
dashing spirit, which won him this favor. There may have been 
early recollections connected with it. Lee was the son of the lady 
"who first touched W^ashington's heart in his schoolboy days, the one 
about whom he wrote rhymes at Mount Vernon and Greenway 
Court — his "lowland beauty." 

Several days were passed by the commander-in-chief almost con- 
tinually in the saddle, reconnoitering the roads and passes, and 
making himself acquainted with the surrounding country; which 
was very much intersected by rivers and small streams, running 
chiefly from north-west to south-east. He had now made up his 
mind to risk a battle in the open field. It is true his troops were 
inferior to those of the enemy in number, equipments, and disci- 
pline. Hitherto, according to Lafayette, "they had fought combats, 
but not battles." Still those combats had given them experience ; 
and though many of them were militia, or raw recruits, yet the 
divisions of the army had acquired a facility at moving in large 
masses, and were considerably improved in military tactics. At 
any rate, it would never do to let Philadelphia, at that time the 
capital of the States, fall without a blow. 

The British army having effected a landing, was formed into two 
divisions. One, under Sir William Howe, was stationed atElkton, 
with its advance-guard at Gray's Hill, about two miles off. The 
other division, under Gen. Knyphausen, was on the opposite side of 
the ferry, at Cecil Court House. On the 3d of September the 



I777-] BATTLE OF BRANDYWnXE. 339 

enemy advanced in considerable force, with three field-pieces, 
moving with great caution, as the country was difficult, woody, 
and not well known to them. About three miles in front of White 
Clay Creek, their van-guard was encountered by Gen. Maxwell and 
his light troops, and a severe skirmish took place. The fire of the 
American sharpshooters and riflemen, as usual, was very effective; 
but being inferior in number, and having no artillery. Maxwell was 
compelled to retreat across White Clay Creek, with the loss of 
about forty killed and wounded. The loss of the enemy was sup- 
posed to be much greater. 

The main body of the American army was now encamped on the 
east side of Red Clay Creek, on the road leading from Elkton to 
Philadelphia. The light-infantry were in the advance, at White 
Clay Creek. The armies were from eight to ten miles apart. In 
this position, Washington detemriined to await the threatened at- 
tack. On the 5th of September he made a stirring appeal to the 
army, in his general orders, stating the object of the enemy, the cap- 
ture of Philadelphia. They had tried it before, from the Jerseys, 
and had failed. He trusted they would be again disappointed. In 
their present attempt their all was at stake. The whole would be 
hazarded in a single battle. If defeated in that, they were totally 
undone, and the war would be at an end. Now then was the time 
for the most strenuous exertions. One bold stroke would free the 
land from rapine, devastation, and brutal outrage. "Two years," 
said he, "have we maintained the war, and struggled with difficul- 
ties innumerable, but the prospect has brightened. Now is the 
time to reap the fruit of all our toils and dangers ; if we behave like 
men this third campaign will be our last." Washington's effective 
force, militia included, did not exceed eleven thousand, and most 
of these indifferently armed and equipped. The strength of the 
British was computed at eighteen thousand men, but, it is thought, 
not more than fifteen thousand were brought into action. On the 
8th, the enemy advanced in two columns. Washington suspected 
an intention on the part of Howe to march by his right, suddenly 
pass the Brandywine, gain the heights north of that stream, and 
cut him off from Philadelphia. He summoned a council of war, 
therefore, that evening, in which it was determined immediately to 
change their position, and move to the river in question. By two 
o'clock in the morning, the army was under march, and by the 
next evening was encamped on the high grounds in the rear of the 
Brandywine. The enemy on the same evening moved to Kennet 
Square, about seven miles from the American position. The 
Brandywine Creek, commences with East and West branches, which 
unite in one stream, flowing from west to east about twenty-two 
miles, and emptying itself into the Delaware about twenty-five 
miles below Philadelphia. It has several fords ; one called Chadd's 
Ford, was at that time the most practicable, and in the direct route 
from the enemy's camp to Philadelphia. As the principal attack 
was expected here, Washington made it the center of his position, 
where he stationed the main body of his anny, composed ofWayne's, 
Weedon's, and Muhlenberg's brigades, with the light-infan- 



340 LTFE OF WASHINGTON. 

try under Maxwell. An eminence immediately above the ford, 
bad been intrenched in the night, and was occupied by Wayne and 
Proctors artillery. Weedon's and Muhlenberg's brigades, which were 
Virginian troops, and formed Gen. Greene's division, were posted in 
the rear on the heights, as a reserve to aid either w ing of the army. 
With these Washington took his stand. Maxwell's light-infantry 
were thrown in the advance, south of the Brandy wine, and posted on 
high ground each side of the road leading to the ford. "The right 
wing of the army commanded by Sullivan, and composed of his 
division and those of Stephen and Stirling, extended up the 
Brandywine two miles beyond Washington's position. Its light 
troops and vidcttes were distributed quite up to the forks. A few 
detachments of ill-organized and undisciplined cavalry, extended 
across the creek on the extreme right. The left wing, composed of 
the Pennsylvania militia, under Major-Gcneral Armstrong, was 
stationed about a mile and a half below the main body, to protect 
the lower fords, where the least danger was apprehended. The 
Brandywine, which ran in front of the whole line, was now the only 
obstacle, if such it might be called, between the two armies. 
Early on the morning of the nth, a great column of troops was 
descried advancing on the road leading to Chadd's Ford. A skirt 
of woods concealed its force, but it was supposed to be the main 
body of the enemy. The Americans were immediately drawn out 
in order of battle. Washington rode along the front of the ranks, 
and was everywhere received with acclamations. A sharp firing 
cf small arms soon told that Maxwell's light-infantry were engaged 
vith the vanguard of the enemy. The skirmishing was kept up for 
some time with spirit, when Maxwell Avas driven across the Brandy- 
vine below the ford. Heavy cannonading commenced on both 
sides, about ten o'clock. The enemy made repeated dispositions to 
force the ford, which brought on as frequent skirmishes on both 
sides of the river, for detachments of the light troops occasionally 
crossed over. One of these skirmishes was more than usually 
revere : the British flank-guard was closely pressed, a captain and 
ten or fifteen men were killed, and the guard was put to flight; but 
a large force came to their assistance, and the Americans were 
regain driven across the stream. All this while, there was the noise 
and uproar of a battle ; but little of the reality. Toward noon 
came an express from Sullivan, with a note received from a scout- 
ing party, reporting that Gen. Howe, with a large body of troops 
and a park of artillery, was pushing up the Lancaster road, doubt- 
less to cross at the upper fords and turn the right flank of the 
American position. W^ashington resolved to cross the ford, attack 
the division in front of him with his whole force, and rout it before 
the other could arrive. He gave orders for both wings to co- 
operate, when, as Sullivan was preparing to cross, Major Spicer of 
the militia rode up, just from the forks, and assured him there was 
no enemy in that quarter. After a time came a man of the neigh- 
borhood, Thomas Cheney by name, spurring in all haste, the mare 
he rode in foam, and himself out of breath. Dashing up to the 
commander-in-chief, he infonned him that he must instantly move, 



1777.] BATTLE OF BRANDYWINE, 341 

or he would be surrounded. He had come upon the enemy un- 
awares ; had been pursued and fired upon, but the fleetness of his 
mare had saved him. The main body of the British was coming 
down on the east side of the stream, and was near at hand. Wash- 
ington rephed, that, from information just received, it could not be 
so. "You are mistaken, general," replied the other vehemently ; 
"my life for it, you are mistaken." Then reiterating the fact with 
an oath, and making a draft of the road in the sand, "put me un- 
der guard," added he, "until you find my story true.' Another 
dispatch from Sullivan corroborated it. Col. Bland, whom Wash- 
ington had sent to reconnoiter above the forks, had seen the enemy 
two miles in the rear of Sullivan's right, marching down at a rapid 
rate, while a cloud of dust showed that there were more troops 
behind them. In fact, the old Long Island stratagem had been 
played over again. Knyphausen with a small division had en- 
grossed the attention of the Americans by a feigned attack at 
Chadd's Ford, kept up with great noise and prolonged by skirm- 
ishes ; while the main body of the army under Cornwallis, led by 
experienced guides, had made a circuit of seventeen miles, crossed 
the two forks of the Brandywine, and arrived in the neighborhood 
of Birmingham meeting-house, two miles to the right of Sullivan. 
It was a capital stratagem, secretly and successfully conducted. 
Finding that Cornwallis had thus gained the rear of the army, 
Washington sent orders to Sullivan to oppose him with the whole 
right wing, each brigade attacking as soon as it arrived upon the 
ground. Wayne, in the meantime, was to keep Knyphausen at 
bay at the ford, and Greene, with the reserve, to hold himself ready 
to give aid wherever required. Lafayette obtained permission to 
join Sullivan ; and spurred off with his aide-de-camp to the scene 
of action. From his narrative, we gather some of the subsequent 
details. Sullivan, on receiving Washington's orders, advanced 
with his own, Stephen's and Stirling's divisions, and began to form 
a line in front of an open piece of wood. The time which had been 
expended in transmitting intelligence, receiving orders, and march- 
ing, had enabled CornwalHs to choose his ground and prepare for 
action. Still more time was given him from the apprehension of 
the three generals, upon consultation, of being out-flanked upon the 
right ; and that the gap between Sullivan's and Stephen's divisions 
was too wide, and should be closed up. Orders were accordingly 
given for the whole line to move to the right ; and while in execu- 
tion, Cornwallis advanced rapidly with his troops in the finest order, 
and opened a brisk fire of musketry and artillery. The Americans 
made an obstinate resistance, but being taken at a disadvantage, 
the right and left wings were broken and driven into the woods. 
The center stood firm for a while, but being exposed to the whole 
fire of the enemy, gave way at length also. The British, in follow- 
ing up their advantage, got entangled in the wood. Lafayette had 
thrown himself from his horse and was endeavoring to rally the 
troops, when he was shot through the leg with a musket ball, and 
had to be assisted into the saddle by his aide-de-camp. 'Ihe 
Americans rallied on a height to the north of Dilworth, and made a 



342 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

still more spirited resistance than at first, but were again dislodged 
and obliged to retreat with a heavy loss. While this was oc- 
curring with the right wing, Knyphausen, as soon as he learned 
from the heavy firing that Cornwallis was engaged, made a push to 
force his way across Chadd's Ford in earnest. He was vigorously 
opposed by Wayne with Proctor's artillery, aided by Maxwell and 
his infantry. Greene was preparing to second him with the reserve, 
when he was summoned by Washington to the support of the right 
wing; which the commander-in-chief had found in imminent peril. 
Greene advanced to the relief with such celerity, that it is said, on 
good authori-ty, his division accomplished the march, or rather run, 
of five miles, in less than fifty minutes. He arrived too late to save 
the battle, but in time to protect the broken masses of the left wing, 
which he met in full flight. Opening his ranks from time to time 
for the fugitives, and closing them the moment they had passed, he 
covered their retreat by a sharp and well-directed fire from his field- 
pieces. His grand stand was made at a place about a mile beyond 
Dilworth, which, in reconnoitering the neighborhood, Washington 
had pointed out to him, as well calculated for a second posi- 
ticn, should the army be driven out of the first ; and here he was 
overtaken by Col. Pinckney, an aide-de-camp of the commander- 
in-chief, ordering him to occupy this position and protect the retreat 
of the army. The orders were implicitly obeyed. W^eedon's 
brigade was drawn up in a narrow defile, flanked on both sides by 
woods, and perfectly commanding the road ; while Greene, with 
Muhlenberg's brigade, passing to the right took his station on the 
road. The British came on impetuously, expecting but faint oppo- 
sition. They met with a desperate resistance and were repeatedly 
driven back. It was the bloody conflict of the bayonet ; deadly on 
either side, and lasting for a considerable time. Weedon's bri- 
gade on the left maintained its stand also with great obstinacy, and 
the check given to the enemy by these two brigades, allowed time 
for the broken troops to retreat. Greene gradually drew off the 
whole division in face of the enemy, who, checked by this vig- 
orous resistance, and seeing the day far spent," gave up all further 
pursuit. The brave stand made by these brigades had, likewise, 
been a great protection to Wayne. He had for a long time with- 
stood the attacks of the enemy at Chadd's Ford, until the approach 
on the right of some of the enemy's troops, who had been entangled 
in the woods, showed him that the right wing had been routed. 
He now gave up the defence cf his post, and retreated by the 
Chester road. Knyphausen's troops were too fatigued to pursue 
him ; and the others had been kept back, as we have shown, by 
Greene's division. So ended the varied conflict of the day. 

The scene of this battle, which decided the fate of Philadelphia, 
-was within six and twenty miles of that city, and each discharge of 
cannon could be heard there. The two parties of the inhabitants, 
whig and tory, were to be seen in separate groups in the squares 
and public places, waiting the event in anxious silence. At length 
a co'jrcr arrived. His tidings spread consternation among the 
friends of liberty. IVIany left their homes ; entire families aband- 



1777.] COJVGRESS LEA VES PHILADELPHfA. 343 

oned everything in terror and despair, and took refuge in the 
mountains. Congress, that same evening, determined to quit the 
city and repair to Lancaster, whence they subsequently removed to 
Yorktown. Before leaving Philadelphia, however, they summoned 
the militia of Pennsylvania and the adjoining States, to join the 
main army without delay ; and ordered dov;n hfteen hundred Con- 
tinental troops from Putnam's command on the Hudson. They 
also clothed Washington with power to suspend officers for misbe- 
havior ; to fill up all vacancies under the rank of brigadiers ; to 
take provisions, and other articles necessary for the use of the army, 
paying or giving certificates for the same ; and to remove, or secure 
for the benefit of the owners, all goods and effects which might 
otherwise fall into the hands of the enemy and be serviceable to 
them. These extraordinary powers were limited to the circum- 
ference of seventy miles round head-quarters, and were to con- 
tinue in force sixty days, unless sooner revoked by Congress. 

Notwithstanding the route and precipitate retreat of the Ameri- 
can army, Sir Wilham Howe did not press the pursuit, but passed 
the night on the field of battle, and remained the two following 
days at Dilworth, sending out detachments to take post at Con- 
cord and Chester, and seize on Wilmington, whither the sick and 
wounded were conveyed. Washington, as usual, profited by the 
inactivity of Howe ; quietly retreating through Derby (on the 12th] 
across the Schuylkill to Germantown, within a short distance of 
Philadelphia, where he gave his troops a day's repose. Finding 
them in good spirits, he resolved to seek the enemy again and give 
him battle. As preliminary measures, he left some of the Pennsyl- 
vania militia in Philadelphia to guard the city ; others under Gen. 
Armstrong, were posted at the various passes of the Schuylkill, 
with orders to throw up works ; the floating bridge on the lower 
road was to be unmoored, and the boats collected and taken across 
the river. Washington recrossed the Schuylkill on the 14th, and 
advanced along the Lancaster road, with the intention of turning 
the left flank of the enemy. Howe, apprised of his intention, made 
a similar disposition to outflank him. The two armies came in 
sight of each other, near the Warren Tavern, twenty-three miles 
from Philadelphia, and were on the point of engaging, but were 
prevented by a violent storm of rain, which lasted for four and 
twenty hours. This inclement weather was particularly distressing 
to the Americans, who were scantily clothed, most of them desti- 
tute of blankets, and separated from their tents and baggage. The 
rain penetrated their cartridge-boxes and the ill-fitted locks of their 
muskets, rendering the latter useless, being deficient in bayonets. 
In this plight, Washington gave up for the present all thought of 
attacking the enemy, as their discipline in the use of the bayonet, 
with which they were universally furnished, would give them a 
great superiority in action. The aim, at present, was to get 
some dry and secure place, where the army might repose and refit. 
All day, and for a great part of the night, they marched under a 
cold and pelting Vain, and through deep ana miry roads, to the 
Yellow Springs, thence to Warwick, on French Creek ; a weary 



344 UFE OF WASHINGTON, 

march in stormy weather for troops destitute of every comfort, and 
nearly a thousand of them actually barefooted. At Warwick fur- 
nace, ammunition and a few muskets were obtained, to aid in dis- 
puting the passage of the Schuylkill, and the advance of the enemy 
on Philadelphia. From French Creek, Wayne was detached with 
his division, to get in the rear of the enemy, form a junction with 
Gen. Smalhvood and the Maryland militia, and, keeping them- 
selves concealed, watch for an opportunity to cut off Howe's bag- 
gage and hospital train ; in the meantime Washington crossed the 
Schuylkill at Parker's Ford, and took a position to defend that pass 
of the river. Wayne set off in the night, and, by a circuitous 
march, got within three miles of the left wing of the British en- 
camped at Tredyffrin, and concealing himself in a wood, waited 
the arrival of Smalhvood and his militia. At daybreak he recon- 
noitered the camp, where Howe, checked by the severity of the 
weather, had contented himself with uniting his columns. All day 
Wayne hovered about the camp; there were no signs of marching; 
all kept quiet, but lay too compact to be attacked with prudence. 
Wayne was in a part of the country full of the disaffected, and Sir 
W^illiam had received accurate information of his force and where 
he was encamped. Gen. Grey, with a strong detachment, was 
sent to surprise him at night in his lair. At eleven o'clock the pick- 
ets were driven in at the point of the bayonet — the enemy were 
advancing in column. Wayne instantly took post on the right 
of his position, to cover the retreat of the left, led by Col, Humpton, 
the second in command. The latter was tardy, and incautiously 
paraded his troops in front of their fires, so as to be in full relief. 
The enemy rushed on without firing a gun ; all was the silent but 
deadly work of the bayonet and the cutlass. Nearly three hundred 
of Ikimpton's men were killed or wounded, and the rest put to flight. 
Wayne gave the enemy some well-directed volleys, and then 
retreating to a small distance, rallied his troops, and prepared for 
further defence. The British, however, contented themselves with 
the blow they had given, and retired with very little loss, taking 
with them seventy or eighty prisoners, several of them officers, and 
eight baggage wagons, heavily laden. 

On the 2 1 St, Howe made a rapid march high up the Schuylkill, 
on the road leading to Reading, as if he intended either to cap- 
ture the military stores deposited there, or to turn the right of the 
American army. Washington kept pace with him on the opposite 
side of the river, up to Pott's Grove, about thirty miles from Phila- 
delphia. No sooner had he drawn Washington so far up the river, 
than, by a rapid counter-march on the night of the 22d, he got to 
the ford below, threw his troops across on the next morning, and 
pushed forward for Philadelphia. By the time Washington was 
apprised of this counter-movement, Howe was too far on his way 
to be overtaken by harassed, barefooted troops, worn out by con- 
stant marching. Feeling the necessity of immediate reinforce- 
ments, he wrote on the same day to Putnam at Peekskill to detach 
as many effective rank and file, under proper generals and officers. 



1777'] PROGRESS OF BURGOYNE. 345 

as will make the whole number, including those with General 
McDougall, amount to twenty-five hundred fit for duty. 

Howe halted at Germantown, within a short distance of Philadel- 
phia, and encamped the main body of his army in and about that 
village ; detaching Lord Cornwallis with a large force and a num- 
ber of officers of distinction, to take formal possession of the city. 
That General marched into Philadelphia on the 26th, with a bril- 
liant staff and escort, and followed by splendi.l legions of Brit- 
ish and Hessian grenadiers, long trains of artillery and squadrons 
of light-dragoons, the finest troops in the army all in their best 
array; stepping to the swelHng music of the band playing God 
Save the King, and presenting with their scarlet uniforms, their 
glittering arms and flaunting feathers, a striking contrast to the 
poor patriot troops, who had recently passed through the same 
streets, weary and way-worn, and happy if they could cover their 
raggedness with a brown linen hunting-frock, and decorate their 
caps with a sprig of evergreen. In this way the British took pos- 
session of the city, so long the object of their awkward attempts, 
and regarded by them as a triumphant acquisition ; having been 
the seat of the general government; the capital of the confed- 
eracy. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

PROGRESS OF BURGOYNE — HIS SURRENDER. 

The checks Burgoyne had received on right and left, and in a 
great measure, through the spontaneous rising of the country, had 
opened his eyes to the difficulties of his situation, and the errors 
as to public feeling into which he had been led by his tory coun- 
selors. His orders, however, were positive to force a junction with 
Sir William Howe. He did not feel at liberty, therefore, to remain 
inactive longer than would be necessary to receive the reinforce- 
ments of the additional companies, the German drafts and recruits 
actually on Lake Champlain, and to collect provisions enough for 
twenty-five days. These reinforcements were indispensable, 
because from the hour he should pass the Hudson River and 
proceed toward Albany, all safety of communication would 
cease. 

A feature of peculiar interest is given to this wild and rugged 
expedition, by the presence of two ladies of rank and refinement, 
involved in its perils and hardships. One was Lady Harriet Ack- 
land, daughter of the Earl of Ilchester, and wife of Major 
Ackland of the grenadiers; the other was the Baroness De Riede- 
sel, wife of the Hessian major-general. Both of these ladies had* 
been left behind in Canada. Lady Harriet, however, on hearing 
that her husband was wounded in the affair at Hubbardton, 
instantly set out to rejoin him, regardless of danger, and of her 
being in a condition before long to become a mother. Crossing 



346 LIFE or WASHINGTON. 

the Avhole length of Lake Champlain, she found him in a sick bed 
at Skenesborough. After his recovery, she refused to leave him, 
but had continued with the amny ever since. Her example had 
been imitated by the Baroness De Riedesel, who had joined the 
army at Fort Edward, bringing with her her three small children. 
The friendship and sympathy of these two ladies in all scenes of 
trial and suffering, and their devoted attachment to their husbands, 
afford touching episodes in the story of the campaign. When the 
army was on the march, they followed a little distance in the rear. 
Lady Harriet in a two-wheeled tumbril, the Baroness in a calash, 
capable of holding herself, her children, and two servants. 

The American army had received various reinforcements: the 
most efficient was Morgan's corps of riflemen, sent by Washing- 
ton. He had also furnished it with artillery. It was now about 
ten thousand strong. Schuyler, finding himself and his proffered 
services slighted by Gates, had returned to Albany. His patriot- 
ism was superior to personal resentments. He still continued to 
promote the success of the campaign, exerting his influence over 
the Indian tribes, to win them from the enemy. At Albany he 
held talks and war feasts with deputations of Oneida, Tuscarora, 
and Onondaga warriors; and procured scouting parties of them, 
which he sent to the camp, and which proved of great service. 

The dense forest which covered the country between the hostile 
armies, concealed their movements, and as Gates threw out no 
harassing parlies, his information concerning the enemy was vague. 
Burgoyne, however, was diligently collecting all his forces from 
Skenesborough, Fort Anne and Fort George, and collecting pro- 
visions ; he had completed a bridge by which he intended to pass 
the Hudson, and force his way to Albany, where he expected 
cooperation from below. Everything was conducted with as much 
silence and caution as possible. His troops paraded without beat 
of drum, and evening guns were discontinued. Arnold, in com- 
pany with Kosciuszko, the Polish engineer, reconnoitered the 
neighborhood in quest of a good camping-ground, and at 
length fixed upon a ridge of hills called Bemis's Heights, which 
Kosciuszko proceeded to fortify. In the meantime. Col. Colburn 
was sent off with a small party to ascend the high hills on the east 
side of the Hudson, and watch the movements of the enemy with 
glasses from their summits, or from the tops of the trees. On Sept. 
nth there were the first signs of movement among Burgoyne's 
troops. On the 12th and 14th, they slowly passed over a bridge 
of boats, \vhich they had thrown across the Hudson, and 
encamped near Fish Creek. Colburn counted eight hundred 
tents, including marquees. A mile in advance were fourteen more 
tents. The Hessians remained encamped on the eastern side of 
the river, but intervening woods concealed the number of their 
tents. There was not the usual stir of military animation in the 
camps. There were no evening or morning guns. On the 15th, 
both the English and Hessian camps struck their tents, and loaded 
their baggage wagons. By twelve o'clock both began to march. 
The British made their way slowly and laboriously down the west- 



1 771-1 T^E BRITISH ARMY HARASSED. 347 

em side of the river, along a wretched road intersected by brooks 
and rivulets, the bridges over u-hich Schuyler had broken down. 
The division had with it eighty-five baggage wagons and a great 
train of artillery; with two unwieldy twenty-four pounders, acting 
like drag anchors. It was a silent, dogged march, without a beat 
of drum, or spirit-stiring bray of trumpet. A body of light troops, 
new levies, and Indians, painted and decorated for war, struck off 
from the rest and disappeared in the forest, up Fish Creek. From 
the great silence observed by Burgoyne in his movements, and the 
care he took in keeping his men together, and allowing no strag- 
gling parties, Col. Colburn apprehended that he meditated an 
attack. Having seen the army advance two miles on its march, 
therefore, he descended from the heights, and hastened to the 
American camp to make his report. A British prisoner, brought 
in soon afterward, stated that Burgoyne had come to a halt about 
four miles distant. On the following morning, the army was under 
arms at daylight ; the enemy, however, remained encamped, 
repairing bridges in front, and sending down guard boats to recon- 
noiter ; the Americans, therefore, went on to fortify their position. 
The ridge of hills called Bemis's Heights, rises abruptly from the 
narrow flat bordering the west side of the river. Kosciuszko had 
fortified the camp with intrenchments three-quarters of a mile in 
extent, having redoubts and batteries, which commanded the val- 
ley, and even the hills on the opposite side of the river; for the 
Hudson, in this upper part, is comparatively a naiTOw stream. 
From the foot of the height, an intrenchment extended to the 
river, ending with a battery at the water edge, commanding a 
floating bridge. The right wing of the army, under the immediate 
command of Gates, and composed of Glover's, Nixon's, and Pat- 
terson's brigades, occupied the brow of the hill nearest to the 
river, with the flats below. The left wing, commanded by Arnold, 
was on the side of the camp furthest from the river, and distant 
from the latter about three-quarters of a mile. It was composed 
of the New Hampshire brigade of Gen. Poor, Pierre Nan Court- 
landt's and James Livingston's regiments of New York militia, the 
Connecticut militia, Morgan's riflemen, and Dearborn's infantry. 
The centre was composed of Massachusetts and New York troops. 
Burgoyne gradually drew nearer to the camp, throwing out large 
parties of pioneers and workmen. The Americans disputed every 
step. A Hessian officer observes: "The enemy bristled up his 
hair, as we attempted to repair more bridges. At last, we had to 
do him the honor of sending out whole regiments to protect our 
workmen." It was Arnold who provoked this honor. At the head 
of fifteen hundred men he skirmished bravely with the superior 
force sent out against him, and retired with several prisoners. 

Burgoyne now encamped about two miles from Gen. Gates, dis- 
posing his army into two lines; the left on the river, the right 
extending at right angles to it, about six hundred yards, across the 
low grounds to a range of steep and rocky hills, occupied by the 
elite; a ravine formed by a rivulet from the hills passed in front of 
the camp. The low ground between the armies was cultivated. 



348 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, . 

the hills were covered with woods, excepting three or four small 
openings and deserted farms. Beside the ravines wliich fronted 
each camp there was a third one, midway between them, also at 
right angles to the river. On the morning of the I9lh, Gen. 
Gates received intelligence that the enemy were advancing in 
great force on his left. It was, in fact, their right wing, composed 
of the British hne and led by Burgoyne in person. It was cov- 
ered by the grenadiers and light-infantry under Gen. Fraser and 
Col. Breyman, who kept along the high grounds on the right; 
while they, in turn, were covered in front and on the flanks by 
Indians, provincial royalists and Canadians. The left wing and 
artillery were advancing at the same time, under Major-Generals 
Phillips and Riedescl, along the great road and meadows by the 
liver side, but they were retarded by the necessity of repairing 
broken bridges. It was the plan of Burgoyne, that the Canadians 
and Indians should attack the central outposts of the Americans, 
and draw their attention in that direction, while he and Fraser, 
making a circuit through the woods, should join forces and fall 
upon the rear of the American camp. 

The American pickets, stationed along the ravine of IVIill Creek, 
sent repeated accounts to Gen. Gates of the movements of the 
enemy ; but he remained quiet in his camp as if determined to 
await an attack. The American officers grew impatient. Arnold 
especially, impetuous by nature, urged repeatedly that a detach- 
ment should be sent forth to check the enemy in their advance, 
and drive the Indians out of the woods. At length he succeeded 
in getting permission, about noon, to detach Morgan with his ritle- 
irien and Dearborn with his infantry from his division. They soon 
fell in with the Canadians and Indians, which formed the advance 
guard of the enemy's right, and attacking them with spirit, drove 
them in or rather dispersed them. Morgan's riflemen, following 
up their advantage with too much eagerness, became hkcwise scat- 
tered, and a strong reinforcement of royalists arriving on the scene 
of action, the Americans, in their turn, were obliged to give way. 
Other detachments now arrived from the American camp, led by 
Arnold, who attacked Fraser on his right, to check his attempt to 
get in the rear of the camp. Finding the position of Fraser too 
strong to be forced, he sent to headquarters for reinforcements, 
but they were refused by Gates, who declared that no more should 
go; "he would not suffer his camp to be exposed." Arnold now 
made a rapid counter-march, and his movement being masked by 
the woods, suddenly attempted to turn Fraser' s left. Here he 
came in full conflict with the British line, and threw himself upon it 
with a boldness and impetuosity that for a time threatened to break 
it, and cut the wings of the army asunder. The grenadiers and 
Breyman' s riflemen hastened to its support. Gen. Phillips broke 
his way through the woods with four pieces of artillery, and Riede- 
sel came on with his heavy dragoons. Reinforcements came like- 
wise to Arnold's assistance; his force, however, never exceeded 
three thousand men, and with these, for nearly four hours, he kept 
up a conflict almost hand to hand, with the whole right wing of the 



1 7 77- ] nXDIANS A VOID B USH FIGHTERS. 349 

British army. Part of the time the Americans had the advantage 
of fighting under the cover of a wood, so favorable to their mihtia 
and sharpshooters. Burgoyne ordered the woods to be cleared by 
the bayonet. His troops rushed forward in columns with a hur- 
rah! The Americans kept within their intrenchments, and repeat- 
edly repulsed them ; but, if they pursued their advantage, and 
advanced into open field, they were in their turn driven back. 
Night alone put an end to a conflict, which the British acknowl- 
edged to have been the most obstinate and hardly fought tliey had 
ever experienced in America. ]ioth parties claimed the victory. 
The British remained on the field of battle, where they lay all 
night upon their arms, but they had failed in their object ; had 
been assailed instead of being the assailants; while the American 
troops had accomplished the purpose for which they had sallied 
forth; had checked the advance of the enemy, frustrated their 
plan of attack, and returned exulting to their camp. Their loss, 
in killed and wounded, was between three and four hundred, 
including several officers ; that of the enemy upward of five 
hundred. 

Arnold was excessively indignant at Gate's withholding the 
reinforcements he had required in the heat of the action; had they 
been furnished, he said, he might have severed the line of the 
enemy and gained a complete victory. He was urgent to resume 
the action on the succeeding morning and follow up the advantage 
he had gained, but Gates declined, to his additional annoyance. 
He attributed the refusal to pique or jealousy, but Gates subse- 
quently gave as a reason the great deficiency of powder and ball 
in the camp, which was known only to himself, and which he 
kept secret until a supply was sent from Albany. Burgoyne now 
strengthened his position with intrenchments and batteries, part 
of them across the meadows which bordered the river, part on the 
brow of the heights which commanded them. The Americans 
likewise extended and strengthened their line of breastworks on 
the left of the camp ; the right was already unassailable. The 
camps were within gunshot, but with ravines and woods between 
them. 

Washington's predictions of the effect to be produced by- 
Morgan's riflemen approached fulfillment. The Indians, dismayed 
at the severe treatment experienced from these veteran bush 
fighters, were disappearing from the British camp. The Canadians 
and royal provincials, "mere trimmers," as Burgoyne called 
them, were deserting in great numbers, and he had no confidence 
in those who remained. His situation was growing more and 
more critical. On ths 21st, he heard shouts in the American camp, 
and in a little while their cannon thundered a feu de joie. News 
had been received from General Lincoln, that a detachment of 
New England troops under Colonel Brown had surprised the car- 
rying-place, mills, and French hnes at Ticonderoga, captured an 
anned sloop, gunboats and bateaux, made three hundred prisoners, 
beside releasing one hundred American captives, and were laying 
siege to Fort Independence. While the shouts from the American 



350 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

camp were yet ringing in his ears, came a letter in cipher from Sir 
Henry CHnton, dated the 12th of September, announcing his inten- 
tion in about ten days to attack the forts in the Highlands of the 
Hudson. 

The jealousy of Gates had been intensely excited at finding the 
whole credit of the late affair given by the anny to Arnold : in his 
dispatches to the government he made no mention of him. This 
increased the schism between them. Wilkinson, the adjutant-gen- 
eral, who was a sycophantic adherent of Gates, pandered to his 
pique by withdrawing from Arnold's division Morgan's rifle corps 
and Dearborn's light-infantry, its arm of strength, which had done 
such brilliant service in the late aflair : they were henceforth to be 
subject to no order but those from headquarters, Arnold called 
on Gates on the evening of the 22d, to remonstrate. High words 
passed between them, and matters came to an open rupture. 
Gates, in his heat, told Arnold that he did not consider him a 
major-general, he having sent his resignation to Congress — that he 
had never given him the command of any division of the army — 
that General Lincoln would arrive in a day or two, and then he 
would have no further occasion for him, and would give him a pass 
to go to Philadelphia, whenever he chose. Arnold returned to his 
quarters in a rage, but deteniiined to remain in camp and abide 
the anticipated battle. Lincoln, in the meantime, arrived in 
advance of his troops ; which soon followed to the amount of two 
thousand. Part of the troops, detached by him under Colonel 
Brown, were besieging Ticonderoga and Fort Independence. 
Colonel Brown himself, with part of his detachment, had embarked 
on Lake George in an armed schooner and a squadron of captured 
gunboats and bateaux, and was threatening the enemy's deposit 
cf baggage and heavy artillery at 13iamond Island. The toils so 
skillfully spread were encompassing Burgoyne more and more ; the 
f^ntes of Canada were closing behind him. A morning or two after 
Lincoln's arrival, Arnold observed him giving some directions in 
the left division, and quickly inquired whether he was doing so by 
order of General Gates ; being answered in the negative, he ob- 
served that the left division belonged to him ; and that he believed 
his (Lincoln's) proper station was on the right, and that of General 
Gates ought to be in the center. lie requested him to mention this 
to General Gates, and have the matter adjusted. 

All this time the Americans were harassing the British camp 
Vv ith frequent night alanns and attacks on its pickets and outposts. 
"From the 20th of September to the 7th of October," writes Bur- 
goyne, "the armies were so near, that net a night passed without 
firing, and sometimes concerted attacks upon our advanced pick- 
ets. I do not believe cither cfiiccr or soldier ever slept in that 
interval without liis clothes ; or that any general officer or com- 
mander of a regiment passed a single night, without being upon his 
legs Occasionally at different hours, and constantly an hour before 
daylight." Still Burgoyne kept up a resolute mien, telling his sol- 
diers, in a harangue, that he v/as determined to leave his bones on 
the field, or force h-is way to Albany. He yet clung to the hope, 



1777.] MOVEMENTS OF CLINTON. 351 

that Sir Henry Clinton might operate in time to relieve him from 
his perilous position. 

The expedition of Sir Henry Clinton had awaited the arrival of 
reinforcements from Europe, which were slowly crossing the ocean 
in Dutch bottoms. At length they arrived, after a three months* 
voyage, and now there was a stir of warlike preparation at New 
York ; the streets were full of soldiery, the bay full of ships ; and 
water craft of all kinds were plying about the harbor. Between 
three and four thousand men were to be embarked on board of 
ships of Avar, armed galleys and flat-bottomed boats. The de- 
fences of the Highlands, on which the security of the Hudson de- 
pended, were at this time weakly garrisoned; some of the troops 
having been sent off to reinforce the armies on the Delaware and 
in the North. Putnam, who had the general command of the 
Highlands, had but eleven hundred continental and four hundred 
mihtia troops with him at Peekskill, his headquarters. There was 
a feeble garrison at Fort Independence, in the vicinity of Peekskill, 
to guard the public stores and workshops at Continental A'^illage. 
The Highlands forts, Clinton, Montgomery, and Constitution, sit- 
uated among the mountains and forming their main defence, were 
no better garrisoned, and George Clinton, who had the command 
of them, was absent from his post, attending the State Legislature 
at Kingston (Esopus), in Ulster County, in his capacity of gov- 
ernor. The governor forthwith hastened to his Highland citadel. 
Fort Montgomery ; the obstructions of chain, boom, and chevaux- 
de-frise between it and the opposite promontory of Anthony's 
Nose, would it had been hoped, barricade the Hudson. The chain 
had repeatedly given way under the presure of the tide, but the 
obstructions were still considered efficient, and were protected by 
the guns of the fort, and of two frigates and two armed galleys 
anchored above. Fort Clinton had subsequently been erected 
within rifle shot of Fort Montgomery, to occupy ground which 
commanded it. A deep ravine and stream called Peploep's Kill, 
intervened between the two forts, across which there was a bridge. 
The governor had his headquarters in Fort Montgomery, which 
was the northern and largest fort, but its works were unfinished. 
His brother James had charge of Fort Clinton, which was com- 
plete. The whole force to garrison the associate forts did not 
exceed six hundred men, chiefly militia, but they had the veteran 
Colonel Lamb of the artillery with them, who had served in Can- 
ada, and a company of his artillerists was distributed in the two 
forts. The armament of Sir Henry Clinton, which had been wait- 
ing for a wind, set sail in the course of a day or two and stood up 
the Hudson, dogged by American swift-rowing whale-boats. The 
armament crossed the Tappan Sea and Haverstraw Bay to Ver- 
planck's Point, where, on the 5th, Sir Henry landed with three 
thousand men about eight miles below Peekskill. Putnam drew 
back to the hills in the rear of the village, to prepare for the 
expected attack, and sent off to Governor Clinton for all the troops 
he could spare. So far the maneuvers of Sir Henry Clinton had 
been successful. It was his plan to threaten an attack on Peekskill 



352 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and Fort Independence, and, when he had drawn the attention 
of the American commanders to that quarter, to land troops on the 
western shore of the Hudson, below the Dunderberg (Thunder 
Hill), make a rapid march through the defiles behind that moun- 
tain to the rear of Forts Montgomery and Clinton, come down on 
them by surprise, and carry them by a coup de main. At an early 
hour of the following morning, taking advantage of a thick fog, he 
crossed with two thousand men to Stony Point, on the west shore 
of the river, leaving about a thousand men, chiefly royalists, at 
Verplanck's Point, to keep up a threatening aspect towards Peeks- 
kill. The crossing of the troops had been dimly descried from 
Peekskill, but they were supposed to be a mere detachment from 
the main body on a maraud. Having accomplished his landing, 
bir Henry, conducted by a tory guide, set out on a forced and cir- 
cuitous march of several miles by rugged defiles, round the west- 
ern base of the Dunderberg. At the entrance of the pass he left 
a small force to guard it, and keep up his communication with the 
ships. By eight o'clock in the morning he had effected his march 
round the Dunderberg, and halted on the northern side in a ravine, 
between it and a conical mount called Bear Hill. The possibility 
of an enemy's approach by this pass had been noticed by Wash- 
ington in reconnoitcring the Highlands, and he had mentioned it 
in his instructions to (ienerals Greene and Knox, when they were 
sent to make their military survey, but they considered it imprac- 
ticable, from the extreme difficulty of the mountain passes. It is 
in defiance of difficulties, however, that surprises are apt to be 
attempted, and the most signal have been achieved in the face of 
seeming impossibilities. In the ravine between the Dunderberg 
and Bear Hill, Sir Henry divided his forces. One division, nine 
hundred strong, led by Lieutenant-Colonel Campbell, was composed 
partly of royaiists, led by Colonel Beverly Robinson of New York, 
partly of Emerick's chasseurs, and partly of grenadiers, under 
Lord Rawdon, then about twenty-four years of age, who had 
already seen service at Bunker's Hill. With him went Count 
Gabrouski,a Polish nobleman, aide-de-camp to Sir Henry Clinton. 
Kverything had thus far been condijcted with celerity and appar- 
ent secrecy, and complete surprise of both forts was anticipated. 
Sir Henry had indeed, outwitted one of the guardians of the High- 
lands, but the other was aware of his designs. Governor Clinton, 
on receiving intelligence of ships of war coming up the Hudson, 
had sent scouts beyond the Dunderberg to watch their movements. 
He apprehended an attack, and sent to Putnam for reinforcements, 
preparing, in the meantime, to make such defence as his scanty 
means afforded. A lieutenant was sent out with thirty men from 
Fort Clinton, to proceed along the river-road and reconnoiter. He 
fell in with the advance-guard of Sir Henry Clinton's division, and 
retreated skirmishing to the fort. A large detachment was sent 
out to check the approach of the enemy on this side ; while sixty 
men, afterwards increased to a hundred, took post with a brass 
field-piece in the Bear Hill defile. It was a narrow and rugged 
pass, bordered by shagged forests. As Campbell and his division 



1777.] FORTS MONTGOMERY AND CLINTON. 353 

came pressing forward, they were checked by the discharge of fire- 
arms and of the brass field-piece, which swept the steep defile. 
The British troops then filed off on each side into the woods, to 
surround the Americans. The latter, finding it impossible to extri- 
cate their field-piece in the rugged pass, spiked it, and retreated 
into the fort, under cover of the fire of a twelve-pounder, with 
which Laml) had posted himself on the crest of a hill. 

Sir Henry Clinton had met with equally obstinate opposition in 
his approach to Fort Clinton ; the narrow strip of land between 
Lake Sinipink and the Hudson, along which he advanced, being 
fortified by an abatis. By four o'clock the Americans were 
driven within their works, and both forts were assailed. The de- 
fence was desperate ; for Governor Chnton was a haixi fighter, 
and he was still in hopes of reinforcements from Putnam ; not 
knowing that the messenger he sent to him had turned traitor, and 
deserted to the enemy. About five o'clock, he was summoned to 
surrender in five minutes, to prevent the effusion of blood : the 
the reply was a refusal. About ten minutes afterwards, there was 
a general attack upon both forts. It was resisted with obstinate 
spirit. The action continued until dusk. The ships under CorH- 
modore Hotham approached near enough to open an irregular fire 
upon the forts, and upon the vessels anchored above thechevawx- 
de-frise. The latter returned the fire ; and the flash and roar of 
their cannonry in the gathering darkness and among the echoes of 
the mountains increased the terrors of the strife. The works, how- 
ever, were too extensive to be manned by the scanty garrisons ; 
they were entered by different places and carried at the point of 
the bayonet ; the Americans fought desperately from one redoubt 
to another ; some were slain, some taken prisoners, and some 
escaped under cover of the night to the river or the mountaiins. 
"The garrison," writes Chnton, significantly, "had to fight their 
way out as many as could, as we determined not to surren- 
der." His brother James was saved from a deadly thrust of a bay- 
onent, by a garrison orderly-book in his pocket ; but he received a 
flesh-wound in the thigh. He shd down a precipice, one hundred 
feet high, into the ravine between the forts, and escaped to the 
woods. The governor leaped down the rocks to the river side, 
where a boat was putting off with a number of the fugitives. They 
turned back to receive him, but he generously refused to endanger 
their safety, as the boat was already loaded to the gunwale. It 
was only on receiving assurance of its being capable of bearing 
his additional weight, that he consented to enter. The boat 
crossed the Hudson in safety, and before midnight the governor 
was with Putnam, at Continental Village, concerting further 
measures. 

Putnam had been completely outmaneuverd by Sir Henry Cli^n- 
ton. He had continued until late in the morning, in the belief that 
Peekskill and Fort Independence were to be the objects of attack. 
His pickets and scouts could not ascertain the number of the 
enemy remaining on the east side of the river ; a large fire near Stony 
Point made him think the troops which had crossed were merely 
12 



354 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

burning storehouses ; while ships, galleys, and flat-bottomed boats 
seemed preparing to land forces at Fort Independence and Peeks- 
kill. In the course of the morning he sallied forth with Brigadier- 
general Parsons, to reconnoiter the ground near the enemy. After 
their return they were alarmed, he says, by "a very heavy and 
hot firing both of small arms and cannon, at Fort Montgomery," 
which must have made a tremendous uproar among the echoes of 
the Dunderberg. Aware of the real point of danger, he immedi- 
ately detached five hundred men to reinforce the garrison. They 
had six miles to march along the eastern shore, and then to cross 
the river ; before they could do so the fate of the forts was decided. 

On the capture of the forts, the American frigates and galleys 
stationed for the protection of the chcvaux-de-frise slipped their 
cables, made all sail, and endeavored to escape up the river. The 
wind, however, proved adverse ; there was danger of their falling 
into the hands of the enemy; the crews, therefore, set them on 
fire and abandoned them. As every sail was set, the vessels were 
soon "magnificent pyramids of fire ;" the surrounding mountains 
were lit up by the glare, and a train of ruddy light gleamed along 
the river. They were in a part of the Highlands famous for its 
echoes : as the flames gradually reached the loaded cannon, their 
thundering reports were multiplied and prolonged along the rocky 
shores. The vessels at length blew up with tremendous explosions, 
and all again was darkness. On the following morning, the 
chevaux-de-frise and other obstructions between Fort Montgomery 
and Anthony's Nose were cleared away ; the Americans evacuated 
Forts Independence and Constitution, and a free passage up the 
Hudson was open for the British ships. Sir Henry Clinton pro- 
ceeded no further in person, but left the rest of the enterprise to 
be accomplished by Sir James Wallace and General Vaughan, 
with a flying squadron of light frigates, and a considerable 
detachment of troops. 

Putnam had retreated to a pass in the mountains, on the east side 
of the river, near Fishkill, having removed as much of the stores 
and baggage as possible from the post he had abandoned. He had 
concerted with Governor Clinton that they should move to the 
northward with their forces, along the opposite shores of the Hud- 
son, endeavoring to keep pace with the enemy's ships and cover 
the country from their attacks. The governor was in the neigh- 
borhood of New "Windsor, just above the Highlands, where he had 
posted himself to rally what he termed his " broken but brave 
troops," and to call out the mihtia of Ulster and Orange. On the 
9th, two persons coming from Fort Montgomery were arrested by 
his guards, and brought before him for examination. One was 
much agitated, and was observed to put something hastily into his 
mouth and swallow it. An emetic was administered, and brought 
up a small silver bullet. Before he could be prevented he swal- 
swallowed it again. A second emetic produced the bullet again. 
It was oval in fonri, and hollow, with a screAv in the center, and 
contained a note from Sir Henry Chnton to Burgoyne, written on 
a shp of tiiin paper, and dated (Oct. 8th) from Fort Montgomery. 



I77M BURGOYNE IN THE TOILS. 355 

**Nous y void (here we are), and nothing between us and Gates. 
I sincerely hope this little success of ours will facilitate your opera- 
tions." 

The enemy's light-armed vessels were now making their way 
up the river ; landing marauding parties occasionally to make dep- 
redations. As soon as the governor could collect a little force, 
he pressed forward to protect Kingston (Esopus), the seat of the 
State legislature. The enemy in the meantime landed from their 
ships, routed about one hundred and fifty militia collected to 
oppose them, marched to the village, set fire to it in every part, 
consuming great quantities of stores collected there, and then 
retreated to their ships. Governor Clinton was two hours too late. 
He beheld the flames from a distance ; and having brought with 
him the spy, the bearer of the silver bullet, he hanged him on an 
apple tree in sight of the burning village. The enemy proceeded 
in their ravages, destroying the residences of conspicuous patriots 
at Rhinebeck, Livingston Manor, and elsewhere, and among oth- 
ers the mansion of the widow of the brave General Montgomery. 

While Sir Henry Clinton had been thundering in the Highlands, 
Burgoyne and his army had been wearing out hope within their 
intrenchments, vigilantly watched, but unassailed by the Amer- 
icans. Arnold, was chafing in the camp, and longing for a 
chance, as usual, " to right himself" by his sword. In a letter to 
Gates he tries to goad him on. " I think it my duty (which noth- 
ing shall deter me from doing) to acquaint you, the army are clam- 
orous for action. The militia (who compose a great part of the 
army) are already threatening to go home. One fortnight's inac- 
tion will, I make no doubt, lessen your army by sickness and 
desertion, at least four thousand men. In which time the enemy may 
be reinforced, and make good their retreat." Gates was not to be 
goaded into action ; he saw the desperate situation of Burgoyne, 
and bided his time. "Perhaps," writes he, "despair may dictate 
to him to risk all upon one throw ; he is an old gamester, and in 
his time has seen all chances. I will endeavor to be ready to pre- 
vent his good fortune, and, if possible, secure my own." 

On the 7th of October, but four or five days remained of the 
time Burgoyne had pledged himself to await the cooperation of 
Sir Henr>' Clinton. He now determined to make a grand move- 
ment on the left of the American camp, to discover whether he 
could force a passage, should it be necessary to advance, or dis- 
lodge it from its position, should he have to retreat. Another 
object was to cover a forage of the army, which was suffering from 
the great scarcity. For this purpose fifteen hundred of his best 
troops, with two twelve-pounders, two howitzers and six six-pounders, 
were to be led by himself, seconded by Major-generals Phillips and 
Riedesel, and Brigadier-general Fraser. On leaving his camp, 
Burgoyne committed the guard of it on the high grounds to Briga- 
dier-generals Hamilton and Specht, and of the redoubts on the 
low grounds near the river, to Brigadier-general Gall. Forming 
his troops within three-quarters of a mile of the left of the Amer- 
icans, though covered from their sight by the forest, he sent out a 



356 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

corps of rangers, provincials and Indians, to skulk throti<;h the 
woods, get in their rear, and give them an alarm at the time the 
attack took place in front. The movement, though earned on 
behind the screen of forests, was discovered. In tlie afternoon 
the advanced guard of tlie American center beattoanns: the 
alarm was repeated throughout the line. Gates ordered his officers 
to their alarm posts, and sent fortli Wilkinson, the adjutant-general, 
to inquire the cause. From a rising ground in an open place he 
descried the enemy in force, their foragers busy in a field of wheat, 
the officers reconnoitering the left wing of the camp with telescopes 
from the top of a cabin. Wilkinson reported that their front was 
open, their flanks rested on woods, under cover of which they 
might be attacked, and their right was skirted by a height ; that 
they were reconnoitering the left, and he thought offered battle. 
"Well, then," replied Gates, "order out Morgan to begin the 
game." A plan of attack was soon arranged. Morgan with his 
riflemen and a body of infantry was sent to make a circuit through 
the woods, and get possession of the heights on the right of the 
enemy, while General Poor with his brigade of New York and New 
Hampshire troops, and a part of Learned' s brigade, were to 
advance against the enemy's left. Morgan was to make an attack 
on the heights as soon as he should hear the fire opened below. 
Burgoyne now drew out his troops in battle array. The grenadiers, 
under Major Ackland, with the artillery, under Major Williams, 
formed his left, and were stationed on a rising ground, with a rivu- 
let called Mill Creek in front. Next to them were the Hessians, 
under Riedesel, and British, under Phillips, forming the center. 
The light-infantry, under Lord Balcarras, formed tlie extreme 
right ; having in the advance a detachment of five hundred picked 
men, under General Fraser, ready to flank the Americans as soon 
as they should be attacked in front. He had scarce made these 
arrangements, when he was astonished and confounded by a thun- 
dering of artillery on his left, and a rattling fire of rifles on the 
woody heights on his right. The troops under Poor advanced 
steadily up the ascent where Ackland' s grenadiers and Williams' 
artillery were stationed; received their fire,. and tlien rushed for- 
ward. Ackland's grenadiers received the first brunt, but it 
extended along the line, as detachment after detachment arrived, 
and was carried on wnth inconceivable fury. The Hessian artiller- 
ists spoke afterwards of the heedlessness with which the Americans 
rushed upon the cannon, while they were discharging grape-shot. 
The artilleiy was repeatedly taken and retaken, and at length 
remained in possession of the Americans, who turned it upon its 
former owners. Major Ackland was wounded in both legs, and 
taken prisoner. Major Williams of the artillery was also captured. 
The headlong, impetuosity of the attack confounded the regular 
tacticians. Much of this has been ascribed to the presence and 
example of Arnold. That daring officer, who had lingered in the 
camp in expectation of a fight, was exasperated at having no com- 
mand assigned him. On hearing the din of battle, he could 
restrain no longer his warlike impulse, but threw himself on his 



177/.] BATTLE OF THE SEVENTk OF OCTOBER. 357 

horse and sallied forth. Gates saw him issuing from the camp. 
"He'll do some rash thing !" cried he, and sent his aide-de-camp. 
Major Armstrong, to call him back. Arnold surmised his errand 
and evaded it. Putting spurs to his horse, he dashed into the 
scene of action, and was received with acclamation. Being the 
superior officer in the field his orders were obeyed of course. 
Putting himself at the head of the troops of Learned' s brigade, he 
attacked the Hessians in the enemy's center, and broke them with 
repeated charges. Indeed, for a time his actions seemed to par- 
take of frenzy ; riding hither and thither, brandishing his sword, 
and cheering on the men to acts of desperation. In one of his 
paroxysms of excitement, he struck and wounded an American 
officer in the head with his sword, without, as he afterwards 
declared, being conscious of the act. Wilkinson asserts that he 
was partly intoxicated ; but Arnold needed only his own irritated 
piide and the smell of gunpowder to rouse him to acts of madness. 
Morgan, in the meantime, was harassing the enemy's right 
wing with an incessant fire of small-arms, and preventing it from 
sending any assistance to the center. General Frascr with his 
chosen corps, for some time rendered great protection to this wing. 
Mounted on an iron-gray charger, his uniform of a field officer 
made him a conspicuous object for Morgan's sharp-shooters. One 
bullet cut the crupper of his horse, another grazed his mane. 
"You are singled out, general," said his aide-de-camp, "and had 
better shift your ground." "My duty forbids me to fly from dan- 
ger," was the reply. A moment afterwards he was shot down by 
a marksman posted in a tree. Two grenadiers bore him to the 
camp. His fall was as a death-blow to his corps. The arrival on 
the field of a large reinforcement of New York troops under Gen- 
eral Ten Broeck, completed the confusion. Burgoyne saw that 
the^field was lost, and now only thought of saving his camp. The 
troops nearest to the lines were ordered to throw themselves within 
them, while Generals Phillips and Rie(iesel covered the retreat of the 
main body, which was in danger of being cut off. The artillery 
was abandoned. Scarcely had they entered the camp when 
it was stormed with great fury ; the Americans, with Arnold at 
their head, rushing to the lines under a severe discharge of grape- 
shot and small-arms. The action was fierce, and well sustained on 
either side. After an ineffectual attempt to make his way into 
the camp in this quarter at the point of the bayonet, Arnold 
spurred his horse toward the right flank of the camp occupied by 
the German reserve, where Lieut. -Col. Brooks was making a gen- 
eral attack with a Massachusetts regiment. Here, with a part of 
a platoon, he forced his way into a sallyport, but a shot from the 
retreating Hessians killed his horse, and wounded him in the same 
leg which had received a wound before Quebec. He was borne 
off from the field, but not until the victory was complete ; for the 
Germans retreated from the works leaving on the field their brave 
defender, Lieut. -Col. Breyman, mortally wounded. The victory 
of the Americans was decisive. They had routed the enemy, 
killed and wounded a great number, made many prisoners, taken 



358 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

their field-artillery, and gained possession of a part of their works 
which laid open the right and the rear of their camp. They lay 
all night on their arms, within half a mile of the scene of action, 
prepared to renew the assault upon the camp in the morning. 
Afi'ecting scenes had occurred in the enemy's camp during this 
deadly conflict. The Baroness De Riedesel says, that when one 
o'clock came "poor Gen. Fraser was brought in upon ahandbarrow, 
mortally wounded. I sat terrified and trembling in a corner. The 
noise grew more alanning, and I was in a continual agony and 
tremor, while thinking that my husband might soon also be brought 
in, wounded like General Fraser. That poor general said to the 
surgeon, 'Tell me the truth, is there no hope?' — There was none." 
Burgoyne had shifted his position during the night, to heights 
about a mile to the north, close to the river, and covered in front 
by a ravine. Early in the morning, the Americans took possession 
of the camp which he had abandoned. A random fire of artillery 
and small-arms was kept up on both sides during the day. The 
British sharpshooters stationed in the ravine did some execution, 
and Gen. Lincoln was wounded in the leg while reconnoitering. 
Gates took measures to cut off the enemy's retreat and insure a 
surrender. Gen. Fellows, with 1,400 men, had already been sent 
to occupy the high ground east of the Hudson opposite Saratoga 
Ford. Other detachments were sent higher up the river in the 
direction of Lake George. Burgoyne saw that nothing was left for 
him but a prompt and rapid retreat to Saratoga. At nine o'clock 
at night the retreat commenced. Large fires had been lighted, 
and many tents were left standing to conceal the movement. The 
hospital, in which were about three hundred sick and wounded, 
was abandoned, as were likewise several bateaux, laden with bag- 
gage and provisions. It was a dismal retreat. The rain fell in 
torrents ; the roads were deep and broken, and the horses weak 
and half-starved from want of forage. At daybreak there was a 
halt to refresh the troops, and give time for the bateaux laden with 
provision to come abreast. In three hours the march was resumed, 
but before long there was another halt, to guard against an Amer- 
ican reconnoitering party which appeared in sight. When the 
troops were again about to march, Gen. Burgoyne received a mes- 
sage from Lady Harriet Ackland, expressing a wish to pass to the 
American camp, and ask permission from Gen. Gates to join her 
husband, who was seriously wounded and a prisoner. "Though 
I was ready to believe," writes Burgoyne, "(for I had experience), 
that patience and fortitude, in a supreme degree, were to be found, 
as well as every other virtue, under the most tender forms, I was 
astonished at this proposal. Mr. Brudenell, the chaplain of the 
artillery readily undertook to accompany her, and with one female 
servant, and the major's valet-de-chambre (who had a ball which 
he had received in the late action then in his shoulder), she rowed 
down the river to meet the enemy." The night was far advanced 
before the boat reached the American outposts. It was challenged 
by a sentinel who threatened to fire into it should it attempt to 
pass. Treachery was apprehended. Lady Harriet and her com- 



I777.J SURRENDER OF THE BRITISH ARMY, 359 

panions were allowed to land. Major Dearborn, the officer on 
guard, surrendered his chamber in the guard-house to her lady- 
ship ; bedding was brought, a fire was made, tea was served, and 
her mind being relieved by assurances of her husband's safety, 
she was enabled to pass a night of comparat-ive comfort and 
tranquility. She proceeded to the American camp in the morning. 
It rained terribly through the residue of the 9th, and in con- 
sequence of repeated halts, the retreating army did not reach 
Saratoga until evening. A detachment of Americans had anived 
there before them, and were throwing up intrenchments on a 
commanding height at Fish Kill. They abandoned their work, 
forded the Hudson, and joined a force under General Fellows, 
posted on the hills east of the river. The bridge over the Fish 
Kill had been destroyed ; the artillery could not cross until the 
ford was examined. Exhausted by fatigue, the men for the most 
part had not strength nor inclination to cut wood nor make fire, 
but threw themselves upon the wet ground in their wet clothes, 
and slept under the continuing rain. At daylight on the loth, 
the artillery and the last of the troops passed the fords of the 
Fish Kill, and took a position upon the heights, and in the 
redoubts formerly constructed there. To protect the troops from 
being attacked in passing the ford by the Americans, who were 
approaching, Burgoyne ordered fire to be set to the farm-houses 
and other buildings on the south side of the Fish Kill. Amongst 
the rest, the noble mansion of Gen. Schuyler, with storehouses, 
granaries, mills, and the other appurtenances of a great rural 
establishment, was entirely consumed. Burgoyne himself esti- 
mated the value of property destroyed at ten thousand pounds 
sterling. The force under Gen. Fellows, posted on the opposite 
hills of the Hudson, now opened a fire from a battery command- 
ing the ford of that river. Thus prevented from crossing, Bur- 
goyne thought to retreat along the west side as far as Fort 
George, on the way to Canada, and sent out workmen under a 
strong escort to repair the bridges, and open the road toward 
Fort Edward. The escort was soon recalled and the work aban- 
doned ; for the Americans under Gates appeared in great force, 
on the heights south of the Fish Kill, and seemed preparing to 
cross and bring on an engagement. Burgoyne called now a gen- 
eral council of war, in whcih it was resolved, since the bridges 
could not be repaired, to abandon the artillery and baggage, let 
the troops carry a supply of provisions uix)n their backs, push for- 
ward in the night, and force their way across the fords at or 
near Fort Edward. Before the plan could be put in execution, 
scouts brought word that the Americans were intrenched opposite 
those fords, and encamped in force with cannon, on the high 
ground between Fort Edward and Fort George. In fact, by this 
time the American army, augmented by militia and volunteers from 
all quarters, had posted itself in strong positions on both sides of 
the Hudson, so as to extend three-fourths of a circle round the 
enemy. Giving up all further attempt at retreat, Burgoyne now 
fortified his camp on the heights to the north of Fish Kill. In 



360 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

this situation his troops lay continually on their arms. His camp 
was subjected to cannonading from Fellows' batteries on the oppo- 
site side of the Hudson, Gates's batteries on the south of Fish 
Kill, and a galling fire from Morgan's rifle-men, stationed on 
heights in the rear. 

The Baroness De Riedesel and her helpless little ones were 
exposed to the dangers and horrors of this long turmoil. On the 
morning when the attack was opened, General De Riedesel sent 
them to take refuge in a house in the vicinity. On their way 
thither the baroness saw several men on the opposite bank of the 
Hudson leveUing their muskets and about to fire. Throwing her 
children in tlie back part of the carriage the anxious mother 
endeavored to cover them with her body. Some women and 
crippled soldiers had already taken refuge in the house. It was 
mistaken for headquarters and cannonaded. The baroness 
retreated into the cellar, laid herself in a corner near the door with 
her children's heads upon her knees, and passed a sleepless night 
cf mental anguish. For six days, she and her children remained 
in this dismal place of refuge. The cellar was spacious, with 
three compartments, but the number of occupants increased. 
The wounded were brought in to be relieved — or to die. She 
remained with her children near the door, to escape more easily in 
case of fire. She put straw under mattresses ; on these she lay 
with her little ones, and her female servants slept near her. There 
was great distress for water. The river was near, but the Ameri- 
cans shot every one who approached it. A soldier's wife at length 
summoned resolution, and brought a supply. "The Americans," 
adds the baroness, "told us afterwards, that they spared her <?« 
account of her sex." 

Burgoyne was now reduced to despair. His forces were dimin- 
ished by losses, by the desertion of Canadians and royalists, and 
the total defection of the Indians ; and on inspection it was found 
that the provisions on hand, even upon short allowance, would not 
suffice for more than three days. A council of war, therefore, was 
called of all the generals, field-officers and captains commanding 
troops. The deliberations were brief. All concurred in the neces- 
sity of opening a treaty with Gen. Gates, for a surrender on hon- 
orable terms. While they were yet deliberating, an eighteen- 
pound ball passed through the tent, sweeping across the table 
round which they were seated. Negotiations were accordingly 
opened on the 13th, under sanction of a flag. Lieut. Kingston, 
Burgoyne's adjutant-general, Avas the bearer of a note, proposing 
a cessation of hostihties until terms could be adjusted. The first 
terms offered by Gates were that the enemy should lay down their 
arms within their intrenchments, and surrender themselves prison- 
ers of war. These were indignantly rejected, with an intimation 
that, if persisted in, hostilities must recommence. Counter propo- 
sals were then made by Gen. Burgoyne, and finally accepted by 
Gen. Gates. According to these, the British troops were to march 
out of the camp with artillery and all the honors of war, to a fixed 
place, where they were to pile their arms at a word of command 



1777.] HESSIAN DESCRIPTION OF OUR ARMY. 361 

from their own officers. They were to be allowed a free passage 
to Europe upon condition of not serving again in America, during 
the present war. The army was not to be separated, esp)ecially 
the men from the officers ; roll-calling and other regular duties 
were to be permitted ; the officers were to be on parole, and to 
wear their side-arms. All private property to be sacred ; no bag- 
gage to be searched or molested. All persons appertaining to or 
following the camp, whatever might be their country, were to be 
comprehended in these terms of capitulation. In the night of the 
l6th, before the articles of capitulation had been signed, a British 
officer from the army below made his way into the camp, with 
despatches from Sir Henry Clinton, announcing that he had cap- 
tured the forts in the Highlands, and had pushed detachments 
further up the Hudson. Burgoyne now submitted to the consider- 
ation of officers, "whether it was consistent with public faith, and 
if so, expedient, to suspend the execudon of the treaty and trust 
to events." His own opinion inclined in the affirmative, but the 
majority of the council determined that the public faith was fully 
plighted. The capitulation was accordingly signed by Burgoyne 
on the 17th of October. The British army, at the time of the sur- 
render, was reduced by capture, death, and desertion, from nine 
thousand to five thousand seven hundred and fifty-two men. That 
of Gates, regulars and miUtia, amounted to ten thousand five hun- 
dred and fifty-four men on duty ; between two and three thousand 
being on the sick list, or absent on furlough. By this capitulation, 
the Americans gained a fine train of artillery,tseven thousand stand 
of arms, and a great quandty of clothing, tents,.and military stores 
of all kinds. When the Bridsh troops marched forth to deposit 
their arms at the appointed place, Col. Wilkinson, the adjutant 
general, was the only American soldier to be seen. Gates had 
ordered his troops to keep rigidly within their lines, that they 
might not add by their presence to the humiltation of a brave 
enemy. 

Wilkinson in his Memoirs, describes the first meeting of Gates 
and Burgoyne, which took place at the head of the American 
camp. Tliey were attended by ijieir staffs and by other general 
officers. Burgoyne was in a rich royal uniform, Gates in a plain 
blue frock. When they had approached nearly within sword's 
length they reined up and halted. Burgoyne, raising his hat most 
gracefully, said : "The fortune of war, Gen. Gates, has made me 
your prisoner;" to which the other, returning his salute, replied, 
"I shall always be ready to testify that it has not been through any 
fault of your excellency." "We passed through the American 
camp," writes the already cited Hessian officer, " in which all the 
regiments were drawn out beside the artillery, and stood under 
arms. Not one of them was uniformly clad ; each had on the 
clothes which he wore in the fields, the church, or the tavern. 
They stood, however, like soldiers, well arranged, and with a mil- 
itary air, in which there was but little to find fault with. All the 
muskets had bayonets, and the sharpshooters had rifles. The men 
all stood so still that we were filled with wonder. Not one of them 



362 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

made a single motion as if he would speak with his neighbor. Nay 
more, all the lads that stood there in rank and file, kind nature 
had formed so trim, so slender, so nervous, that it was a pleasure 
to look at them, and we all were surprised at the sight of such a 
handsome, well-formed race. "In all earnestness," adds he, 
"English America surpasses the most of Europe in the growth and 
looks of its male population. The whole nation has a natural turn 
and talent for war and a soldier's life." He made himself some- 
what merry, however, with the equipments of the officers. A few 
w ore regimentals ; and those fashioned to their own notions as to 
cut and color, being provided by themselves. Brown coats with 
sea-green facings, white linings and silver trimmings, and gray 
coats in abundance, with buff facings and cuffs, and gilt buttons ; 
in short, every variety of pattern. The brigadiers and generals 
v.ore uniforms and belts which designated tlieir rank; but most of 
llie colonels and other officers were in their ordinary clothes; a 
musket and bayonet in hand, and a cartridge-box or powder-horn 
over the shoulder. But what especially amused him was the vari- 
ety of uncouth wigs worn by the officers ; the lingerings of an 
uncouth fashion. It was the lot of Burgoyne to have coals of fire 
heaped on his head by those with whom he had been at enmity. 
One of the first persons whom he had encountered in the Ameri- 
can camp was Gen. Schuyler. He attempted to make some expla- 
nation or excuse about the recent destruction of his property. 
Schuyler begged him not to think of it, as the occasion justified it, 
according to the principles and rules of war. "He did more," 
said Burgoyne, in a speech before the House of Commons : "he 
sent an aide-de-camp to conduct me to Albany ; in order, as he 
expressed it, to procure better quarters than a stranger might be 
able to find. That gentleman conducted me to a very elegant 
hiOuse, and, to my great surprise, presented me to Mrs. Schuyler 
and her family. In that house I remained during my whole stay 
in Albany, with a table of more than twenty covers for me and 
my friends, and every other demonstration of hospitality." This 
was indeed realizing the vaunted courtesy and magnanimity of the 
age of chivalry. The surrender of Burgoyne was soon followed 
by the evacuation of Ticonderoga and Fort Independence, the 
garrisons retiring to the Isle aux Noix and St. Johns. The arma- 
ment on the Hudson returned to New York. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

WASHI-HGTON'S campaign — BATTLE OF GERMANTOWN. 

Washington was encamped at Pott's Grove towards the end of 
September, giving his troops a few day's repose after their severe 
fatigues. His force amounted to about eight thousand Continen- 
tals and three thousand militia; with these he advanced, on the 
30th of Sept., to Skippack Creek, about fourteen miles from Ger- 



I ^7^. J BA TTLE OF GERMAN TO IVN. 363 

mantown, where the main body of the British army lay encamped ; 
a detachment under CornwalHs occupying Philadelphia. Imme- 
diately after the battle of Brandywine, Admiral Howe with great 
exertions had succeeded in getting his ships of war ond transports 
round from the Chesapeake into the Delaware and anchored them 
along the western shore from Reedy Island to Newcastle. They 
were prevented from approaching nearer by obstructions which the 
Americans had placed in the river. The lowest of these were at 
BilUngsport (or Bylhng's Point), where chevaux-de-frise in the 
channel of the river were protected by a strong redoubt on the 
Jersey shore. Higher up were Fort Mifflin on Mud (or Fort) 
Island, and Fort Mercer on the Jersey shore ; with chevaux-de- 
frise between them. Washington had exerted himself to throw a 
garrison into Fort Mifflin, and keep up the obstructions of the 
river. General Howe had concerted operations with his brother 
by land and water, to reduce the forts and clear away the obstruc- 
tions. With this view he detached a part of his force into the Jer- 
seys, to proceed, in the first instance, against the fortifications at 
Billingsport. Washington immediately determined to make an 
attack upon the British camp at Germantown, while weakened by 
the absence of this detachment. Germantown, at that time, was 
little more than one continued street, extending two miles north 
and south. The houses were mostly of stone, low and substantial, 
with steep roofs and projecting eaves. They stood apart from 
each other, with fruit trees in front and small gardens. Beyond 
the village, and about a hundred yards east of the road, stood a 
spacious stone edifice, with ornamented grounds, statues, groves 
and shrubbery, the country-seat of Benjamin Chew, chief justice 
of Pennsylvania previous to the Revolution. Four roads 
approached the village from above ; that is, from the north. The 
Skippack, which was the main road, led over Chestnut Hill and 
Mount Airy down to and through the village towards Philadelphia, 
forming the street of which we have just spoken. On its right, 
and nearly parallel, was the Monatawny or Ridge road, passing 
near the Schuylkill, and entering the main road below the village. 
On the left of the Skippack or main road, was the Limekiln road, 
running nearly parallel to it for a time, and then turning towards 
it, almost at right angles, so as to enter the village at the market- 
place. Still further to the left or east, and outside of all, was the 
Old York road, falling into the main road some distance below the 
village. 

The main body of the British forces lay encamped across the 
lower part of the village, divided into almost equal parts by the 
main street or Skippack road. The right wing, commanded by 
Gen. Grant, was to the east of the road, the left wing to the west. 
Each wing was covered by strong detachments, and guarded by 
cavalry. Gen. Howe had his head-quarters in the rear. The 
advance of the army, composed of the 2d battalion of British 
light-infantry, with a train of artillery, was more than two miles 
from the main body, on the west of the road, with an outlying 
picket stationed with two six-pounders at Allen's house on Mount 



364 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Airy. About three quarters of a mile in the rear of thehght-infan- 
try, lay encamped in a field opposite "Chew's House," the 40th 
regiment of infantry, under Col. Musgrave. " According to Wash- 
ington's plan for the attack Sullivan was to command the right 
wing, composed of his own division, principally Maryland troops, 
and the division of Gen. Wayne. He was to be sustained by a 
corps de reserve, under Lord Sterling, composed of Nash's North 
Carolina and Maxwell's Virginia brigades, and to be flanked by 
the brigade of Gen. Conway. He was to march down the Skip- 
pack road and attack the left wing ; at the same time Gen. Arm- 
strong, with the Pennsylvania militia, was to pass down the Mon- 
atawny or Ridge road, and get upon the enemy's left and rear. 
Greene with the left wing, composed of his own division and the 
division of Gen. Stephen, and flanked by McDougall's brigade, 
was to march down the Limekiln road, so as to enter the village 
at the market-house. The two divisions were to attack the enemy's 
right wing in front, McDougall with his brigade to attack it in 
flank, while Smallwood's division of Maryland militia and For- 
man's Jersey brigade, making a circuit by the Old York road, 
were to attack it in the rear. Two-thirds of the forces were thus 
directed against the enemy's right-wing, under the idea that, if it 
could be forced, the whole army must be pushed into the Schuyl- 
kill, or compelled to surrender. The attack was to begin on all 
quarters at daybreak. About dusk, on the 3d of Oct., the army 
left its encampment at Matuchcn Hills, by its different routes. 
Washington accompanied the right wing. It had fifteen miles of 
weary march to make over rough roads, so that it was after day- 
break when the troops emerged from the woods on Chestnut Hill. 
The morning was dark with a heavy fog. A detachment advanced 
to attack the enemy's out-pickct, stationed at Allen's House. The 
patrol was led by Capt. Allen McLane, a brave Maryland officer, 
well acquainteci with the ground, and with the position of the 
enemy. He fell in with double sentries, whom he killed with the 
loss of one man. The alarm, however, was given ; the distant 
roll cJ" a drum and the call to arms, resounded through the murky 
air. The picket guard, after discharging their two six-pounders, 
were routed, and retreated down the south side of Mount Airy to 
the battalion of light-infantry who were forming in order of battle. 
As their pursuers descended into the valley, the sun rose, but was 
soon obscured. Wayne led the attack upon the light-infantry. 
"They broke at first," writes he, " without waiting to receive us, 
but soon fo'rmed again, when a heavy and well-directed fire took 
place on both sides." They again gave way, but being supported 
by the grenadiers, returned to the charge. SuUivan's division and 
Conway's brigade formed on the west of the road, and joined in 
the attack. The infantry, after fighting bravely for a time, broke 
and ran, leaving their artillery behind. They were hotly pursued 
by Wayne. His troops remembered the bloody 20th of Sept., and 
the ruthless slaughter of their comrades. "They pushed on with 
the bayonet," says Wayne, "and took ample vengeance for that 
night's work." 



1/77.] BATTLE OF GERMANTOWN. 365 

It was a terrible melee. The fog, together with the smoke of 
the cannonry and musketry, made it almost as dark as night. The 
whole of the enemy's advance were driven from their camping 
ground, leaving their tents standing, with all their baggage. Col. 
Musgrave, with six companies of the 40th regiment, threw himself 
into Chew's House, barricaded the doors and lower windows, and 
took post above stairs ; the main torrent of the retreat passed by 
pursued by Wayne into the village. As the residue of this divis- 
ion of the army came up to join in the pursuit, Musgrave and'his 
men opened a fire of musketry upon them from the upper windows 
of his citadel. This brought them to a halt. Some of the officers 
were for pushing on ; but Gen. Knox stoutly objected, insisting on 
the old military maxim, never to leave a garrisoned castle in the 
rear. A flag was sent with a summons to surrender. A young 
Virginian, Lieut. Smith, volunteered to be a bearer. As he was 
advancing, he was fired upon and received a mortal wound. The 
house was now cannonaded, but the artillery was too light to have' 
the desired effect. An attempt was made to set fire to the base- 
ment. He who attempted it was shot dead from a grated cellar 
window. Half an hour was thus spent in vain ; scarce any of the 
defenders of the house were injured, though many of the assailants 
were slain. At length a regiment was left to keep guard upon the 
mansion and hold its garrison in check, and the rear division again 
pressed forward. This half hour's delay, however, of nearly one 
half of the army, disconcerted the action. The divisions and bri- 
gades thus separated from each other by the skirmishing attack 
upon Chew's House could not be reunited. The original plan of 
attack was only effectively carried into operation in the center. 
The flanks and rear of the enemy were nearly unmolested ; still the 
action, though disconnected, irregular and partial, was animated 
in various quarters. Suilivan, being reinforcect by Nash's North 
Carolina troops and Conway's brigade, pushed on a mile beyond 
Chew's House, where the left wing of the enemy gave way before 
him. Greene and Stephen, with their divisions, having had to 
make a circuit, were late in coming into action, and becanae sepa- 
rated from each other, part of Stephen's division being arrested by 
a heavy fire from Chew's House and pausing to return it: Greene, 
however, with his division, comprising the brigades of Muhlen- 
berg and Scott, pressed rapidly forward, drove an advance regi- 
ment of light-infantry before him, took a number of prisoners, and 
made his way quite to the market-house in the center of the vil- 
lage, where he encountered the right wing of the British, drawn up 
to receive him. The impetuosity of his attack had an evident 
effect upon the enemy, who began to waver. Forman and Small- 
wood, with the Jersey and Maryland militia, were just showing 
themselves on the right flank of the enemy, and our troops seemed 
on the point of carrying the whole encampment. At this moment 
a singular panic seized our aiTny. Various causes are assigned for 
it. SuUivan alleges that his troops had expended all their car- 
tridges, and were alarmed by seeing the enemy gathering on their 
left, and by the cry of a light-horseman, that the enemy were get- 



366 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

ting round them. Wayne's division, which had pushed the enemy 
nearly three miles, was alarmed by the approach of a large body 
of American troops on its left flank, which it mistook for foes, and 
fell back in defiance t)f every effort of its officers to rally it. In its 
retreat it came upon Stephen's division and threw it into a panic, 
being, in its turn, mistaken for the enemy ; thus all fell into con- 
fusion, and our army fled from their own victory. 

In the mean time, the enemy, having recovered from the first 
effects of surprise, advanced in their turn. Gen. Grey brought up 
the left wing, and pressed upon the American troops as they 
receded. Cornwallis, with a sc^uadron of light-horse from Phila- 
delphia, arrived just in time to join in the pursuit. The retreat of 
the Americans was attended w ith less loss than might be expected, 
and they carried off all their cannon and wounded. This was 
partly owing to the good generalship of Greene, in keeping up a 
retreating fight with the enemy for nearly five miles ; and partly to 
a check given by Wayne, who turned his cannon upon the enemy 
from an eminence, near White Marsh Church, and brought them 
to a stand. The retreat continued through the day to Perkiomen 
Creek, a distance of twenty miles. The loss of the enemy in this 
action is stated by them to be 71 killed, 415 wounded, and 14 miss- 
ing ; among the killed was Brigadier-general Agnew. The Amer- 
ican loss was 150 killed, 521 wounded, and about 400 taken pris- 
oners. Speaking of Washington's conduct amidst the perplexities 
of this confused battle. Gen. Sullivan writes, " I saw with great 
concern our brave commander-in-chief exposing himself to the 
hottest fire of the enemy, in such a manner that regard for my 
country obliged me to ride to him, and beg him to retire. He, to 
gratify me and some others, withdrew to a small distance, but his 
anxiety for the fate of the day soon brought him up again, where 
he remained till our troops had retreated.' The sudden retreat 
of the army gave him surprise, chagrin and mortification. " Every 
account," said he subsequently, in a letter to the President of Con- 
gress, "confirms the opinion I at first entertained, that our troops 
retreated at that instant when victory was declaring herself in our 
favor. The tumult, disorder, and even despair, which, it seems, 
had taken place in the British army, were scarcely to be paralleled ; 
and it is said, so strongly did the ideas of a retreat prevail, that 
Chester was fixed on for their rendezvous." But although the 
Americans Avere balked of the victoiy, which seemed within their 
grasp, the impression made by the audacity of this attempt upon 
Germantown, was greater, we are told, than that caused by any 
single incident of the war after Lexington and Bunker's Hill. The 
battle had its effect also in France. The Count De Vergennes 
observed to the American commissioners in Paris on their first 
interview, that nothing struck him so much as General Washing- 
ton's attacking and giving battle to Gen. Howe's army ; that to 
bring an army raised within a year to this pass promised every- 
thing. The effect on the army itself may be judged from letters 
written at the time by officers to their friends. " Though we gave 
away a completg victory," writes one, " we have learnt this valu- 



1777] WASHINGTON NEAR PHILADELPHIA, 367 

able truth, that we are able to beat them by a vigorous exertion, 
and that we are far superior in point of swiftness. We are in high 
spirits ; every action gives our troops fresh vigor, and a greater 
opinion of their own strength." Another writes to his father : " For 
my own part, I am so fully convinced of the justice of the cause in 
\vhich we are contending, and that Providence, in its own good 
time, will succeed and bless it, that, were I to see twelve of the 
United States oveiTun by our cruel invaders, I should still believe 
the thirteenth would not only save itself, but also work out the 
deliverance of the others.'* 

Washington remained a few days at Perkiomen Creek, to give 
his army time to rest, and recover from the disorder incident to a 
retreat. Having been reinforced by the arrival of twelve hundred 
Rhode Island troops from Peekskill, under Gen. Varnum, and 
nearly a thousand Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania troops, 
he gradually drew nearer to Philadelphia, and took a strong posi- 
tion at White Marsh, witliin fourteen miles of that city. He 
detached large bodies of militia to scour the roads above the city, 
and between the Schuylkill and Chester, to intercept all supplies 
going to the enemy. On the forts and obstructions in the river, he 
mainly counted to complete the harassment of Philadelphia, These 
defences had been materially impaired. The works at Billings- 
port had been attacked and destroyed, and some of the enemy's 
ships had forced their way through the chevaux-de-frise placed 
there. The American frigate Delaware, stationed in the river 
between the upper forts and Philadelphia, had run aground before 
a British battery, and been captured. It was now the great object 
of the Howes to reduce and destroy, and of Washington to defend 
and maintain, the remaining forts and obstructions. Fort Mifflin 
was erected on a low, green, reedy island in the Delaware, a few 
miles below Philadelphia and below the mouth of the SchuylkilL 
It consisted of a strong redoubt, with extensive outworks and bat- 
teries. There was but a narrow channel between the island and 
the Pennsylvania shore. The main channel, practicable for ships, 
was on the other side. In this were sunk strong chevaux-de-frise, 
difficult either to be weighed or cut through, and dangerous to any 
ships that might run against them ; subjected as they would be to 
the batteries of Fort Mifflin on one side, and on the other to those 
of Fort Mercer, a strong work at Red Bank on the Jersey shore. 
Fort Mifflin was garrisoned by troops of the Maryland line under 
Lieut. -Col. Samuel Smith of Baltimore ; and by Virginia troops. 
The garrison was Ijetween three and four hundred strong. Float- 
ing batteries, galleys, and fire-ships, commanded by Commodore 
Hazlewood, were stationed under the forts and about the river. 
Fort Mercer had hitherto been garrisoned by militia, but Wash- 
ington now replaced them by four hundred of Gen. Varnum's 
Rhode Island Continentals. Col. Christopher Greene was put in 
command ; a brave officer who had accompanied Arnold in his 
rough expedition to Canada, and fought valiantly under the walls 
of Quebec. He was accompanied by Capt. Mauduit Duplessis, 
who was to have the direction of the artillery. He was a young 



368 . LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

French engineer of great merit, who had received a commission 
from Congress. The chevaux-de-frise in the river had been con- 
structed under his superintendence. Greene, aided by Duplessis, 
made all haste to put Fort Mercer in a state of defence ; but 
before the outworks were completed, he was surprised (Oct. 22) 
by the appearance of a large force emerging from a wood within 
cannon shot of the fort. They were four battalions twelve hun- 
dred strong of Hessian grenadiers, picked men, beside light-infan- 
try and chasseurs, all commanded by Count Donop. Greene, in 
nowise dismayed by the superiority of the enemy, forming in glis- 
tening array before the wood, prepared for a stout resistance. In 
a little while an officer was descried, riding slowly up with a flag, 
accompanied by a drummer. The drummer sounded a parley, 
and the officer summoned the garrison to surrender ; with a threat 
of no quarter in case of resistance. Greene's reply was, that the 
post would be defended to the last extremity. Forthwith the Hes- 
sians were seen at work throwing up a battery within half a mile 
of the outworks. It was finished by four o'clock, and opened a 
heavy cannonade. As the American outworks were but half fin- 
ished, and were too extensive to be manned by the garrison, it was 
determined by Greene and Duplessis that the troops should make 
but a short stand there ; to gall the enemy in their approach, and 
then retire within the redoubt, which was defended by a deep 
intrenchment, boarded and fraised. Donop led on his troops in 
gallant style, under cover of a heavy fire from his battery. They 
were excessively galled by a flanking fire from the American gal- 
leys and batteries, and by sharp volleys from the outworks. The 
latter, however, as had been concerted, were quickly abandoned 
by the garrison. The enemy entered at two places, and imagining 
the day their own, the two columns pushed on with shouts to storm 
different parts of the redoubt. As yet, no troops were to be seen ; 
but as one of the columns approached the redoubt on the north 
side, a tremendous discharge of grape-shot and musketry burst 
forth trcm the embrasures in front, and a half-masked battery on 
the left. The slaughter was prodigious ; the column was driven 
back ia confusion. Donop, with the other column, in attempting 
the south side of the redoubt, had passed the abatis; some of his 
men had traversed the fosse ; others had clambered over the pick- 
ets, when a similar tempest of artillery and musketry burst upon 
them. Some were killed on the spot, many were wounded, and 
the rest were driven out. Donop himself and Lieut.-Col. Minger- 
ode, the second in command, were also dangerously wounded. 
Several other of the best officers were slain or disabled. The troops 
retreated in confusion, hotly pursued, and were again cut up in 
their retreat by the flanking fire from the galleys and floating bat- 
teiies. The loss of the enemy in killed and wounded, in this brief 
but severe action, was about 400 men. That of the Americans, 
eight killed and twenty-nine wounded, AsCapt. Mauduit Duples- 
sis was traversing the scene of slaughter after the repulse, he was 
accosted by a voice from among the slain : "Whoever you are, 
draw me hence." It was the unfortunate Count Donop. Diiples- 



1777.] WASHINGTON FOR THE CAUSE ONLY. 369 

sis had him conveyed to a house near the fort, where every atten- 
tion was paid to his comfort. He languished for three days, dur- 
ing which Duplessis was continually at his bedside. "This is fin- 
ishing a noble career early," said the count sadly, as he found his 
death approaching, — then, as if conscious of the degrading service 
in which he had fallen, hired out by his prince to aid a foreign 
power in quelling the brave struggle of a people for their liberty, 
and contrasting it with that in which the chivalrous youth by his 
bedside was engaged — " I die," added he bitterly, " the victim of 
my ambition, and of the avarice of my sovereign." He was but 
thirty-seven years of age at the time of his death. 

Fort Mifflin, opposite to Fort Mercer, was to have been attacked 
at the same time by water. The force employed was the Augusta 
of sixty-four guns ; the Roebuck of forty-four, two frigates, the 
Merlin sloop of eighteen guns, and a galley. They forced their 
way through the lower line of chevaux-de-frise ; but the Augusta 
and Merlin ran aground below the second line, and every effort to 
get them off proved fruitless. The other vessels kept up a fire 
upon the fort throughout the evening, and recommenced it early in 
the morning, as did likewise the British batteries on the Pennsyl- 
vania shore ; hoping that under cover of it the ships might be got 
off. A strong adverse wind, however, kept the tide from rising 
sufficiently to float them. A heavy fire was opened upon them 
from the galleys and floating batteries. It was warmly returned. 
In the course of the action, a red-hot shot set the Augusta on fire. 
It Avas impossible to check the flames. All haste was made with 
boats to save the crew, while the other ships drew off as fast as 
possible to get out of the reach of the explosion. She blew up, 
however, while the second lieutenant, the chaplain, the gunner, 
and several ot the crew were yet on board, most of whom perished. 
The Merlin was now set on fire and abandoned ; the Roebuck 
and the other vessels dropped down the river, and the attack on 
Fort Mifflin was given up. These signal repulses of the enemy- 
had an animating effect on the public mind, and were promptly 
noticed by Congress. Col. Greene, who commanded at Fort 
Mercer, Lieut.-Col. Smith of Maryland, who commanded at Fort 
Mifflin, and Com. Hazlewood, who commanded the galleys, 
received the thanks of that body ; and subsequently, a sword was 
voted to each, as a testimonial of distinguished merit 

In the meantime the cabal went on to make invidious compar- 
isons between the achievements of the two armies, deeply deroga- 
tory to that under Washington. Publicly, he took no notice of 
them; they drew from him the following apology for his army, in 
a noble and characteristic letter to his friend, the celebrated Pat- 
rick Henry, then governor of Virginia. "The design of this," 
writes he, " is only to inform you that the army which I have had 
imder my immediate command, has not, at any one time, since 
Gen. Howe's landing at the Head of Elk, been equal in point of 
numbers to his. In ascertaining this, I do not confine myself to 
Continental troops, but comprehend militia. I was left to fight 
two battles, in order, if possible, to save Philadelphia, with less 



370 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

numbers than composed the army of my antagonist. Next Xq 
being strong, it is best to be thought so by the enemy ; and to this 
cause, principally, I think is to be attributed the slow movements 
of Gen. Howe. How different the case in the Northern Depart- 
ment! There the States of New York and New England contin- 
ued pouring in their troops, till the surrender of Burgoyne's army ; 
at which time not less than fourteen thousand militia were in Gen. 
Gates's camp, and those composed, for the most part, of the best 
yeomanry in the country, well armed, and in many instances sup- 
plied with provisions of their own carrying. Had the same spirit per- 
vaded the people of this and the neighboring States, we might before 
this time have had Gen. Howe nearly in the situation of Gen. 
Burgoyne. My own difficulties, in the course of the campaign, 
have been not a little increased by the loss of Continental troops, 
which the gloomy prospect of our affairs in the North immediately 
after the reduction of Ticonderoga, induced me to spare from this 
army. But it is to be hoped that all will yet end well. If the 

CAUSE IS ADVANCED, INDIFFERENT IS IT TO ME WHERE OR IN WHAT 

QUARTER IT HAPPENS." We have put the last sentence in capitals, 
lor it speaks the whole soul of Washington. Glory with him is a 
secondary consideration. Let those who win, wear the laurel — 
sufficient for him is the advancement of the cause. 

Gen. Howe was constructing redoubts and batteries on Province 
Island, on the west side of the Delaware, within five hundred 
yards of Fort Mifflin, and mounting them with heavy cannon, 
Washington consulted with his general officers what was to be 
done. Had he received the expected reinforcements from the 
Northern army, he might have detached sufficient force to the west 
side of the Schuylkill to dislodge the enemy from Province Island ; 
but at present it would require almost the whole of the army for 
the purpose. This would leave the public stores at Easton, Bethle- 
hem and Allcntown uncovered, as well as several of the hospitals. 
It would also leave the post at Red Bank unsupported, through 
which Fort Mifflin was reinforced and supplied. The garrisons 
of Forts Mercer and ]Mifflin were increased, and Gen. Varnum was 
stationed at Red Bank with his brigade, to be at hand to render 
reinforcements to cither of them as occasion might require. On 
the loth of Nov., Gen. Howe commenced a heavy fire upon Fort 
Mifflin from his batteries, which mounted eighteen, twenty-four, 
and thirty-two pounders. Gen. Varnum was instructed to send 
over fresh troops occasionally to relieve those in the garrison, and 
to prevail upon as many as possible of the militia to go over. The 
latter could be employed at night upon the works to repair the 
damage sustained in the day, and might, if they desired it, return 
to Red Bank in the morning. Washington's orders and instruc- 
tions were faithfully obeyed. Major Fleury, a brave French 
officer, acquitted himself with intelligence and spirit as engineer ; 
but an incessant cannonade and bombardment for several days, 
defied all repairs. The block-houses were demolished, the pali- 
sades beaten down, the guns dismounted, the barracks reduced to 
ruins. Captain Treat, a young officer of great merit, who com- 



1 777-] FOR T MIFFLIN RED UCED. yj i 

manded the artillery, was killed, as were several non-commissioned 
officers and privates ; and a number were wounded. The survi- 
vors, who were not wounded, were exhausted by want of sleep, 
hard duty, and constant exposure to the rain. Col. Smith, the 
commander, was disabled by severe contusions, and obliged to 
retire to Red Bank. The fort was in ruins ; there was danger of its 
being carried by storm, but the gallant Fleury thought it might 
yet be defended with the aid of fresh troops. Such were furnished 
from Varnum's brigade : Lieut. -Col. Russell, of the Connecticut 
line, replaced Col. Smith. He, in his turn, was obliged to 
relinquish the command through fatigue and ill-health, and was 
succeeded by Major Thayer of Rhode Island, aided by Capt. 
(afterwards commodore) Talbot, who had distinguished himself 
in the preceding year by an attack on a ship-of-war in the Hudson. 
On the fourth day the enemy brought a large Indiaman, cut down 
to a floating battery, to bear upon the works ; but though it opened 
a terrible fire, it was silenced before night. The next day several 
ships-of-war got within gunshot. Two prepared to attack it in 
front; others brought their guns to bear on Fort Mercer ; while 
two made their way into the narrow channel between Mud Island 
and the Pennsylvania shore, to operate with the British batteries 
erected there. At a concerted signal a cannonade was opened 
from all quarters. The heroic little garrison stood the fire without 
flinching; the danger, however, was growing imminent. The 
batteries on I'rovince Island enfiladed the works. The ships in 
the inner channel approached so near as to throw hand-grenades 
into the fort, while marines stationed in the roundtops stood ready 
to pick off any of the garrison that came in sight. The scene 
now became awful ; incessant firing from ships, forts, gondolas 
and floating batteries, with clouds of sulphurous smoke, and the 
deafening thunder of cannon. Before night there was hardly a 
fortification to defend; palisades were shivered, guns dismounted, 
the whole parapet levelled. There was terrible slaughter; most 
of the company of artillery were destroyed. Fleury himself was 
wounded. Capt. Talbot received a wound in the wrist, but con- 
tinued bravely fighting until disabled by another wound in the hip. 
To hold out longer was impossible. Col. Thayer made prepara- 
tions to evacuate the fort in the night. The wounded were taken 
over to Red Bank accompanied by part of the garrison. Thayer 
remained with forty men until eleven o'clock, when they set fire to 
what was combustible of the fort they had so nobly defended, and 
crossed to R^d Band by the light of its flames. The loss of this 
fort was deeply regretted by Washington, though he gave high 
praise to the officers and men of the garrison. Col. Smith was 
voted a sword by Congress, and Fleury received the commission 
of lieutenant-colonel. 

Washington still hoped to keep possession of Red Bank, and 
thereby prevent the enemy from weighing the chevaux-de-frise 
before the frost obliged their ships to quit the river. " I am anxi- 
ously waiting the arrival of the troops from the northward," writes 
he, "who ought, from the time they have had my orders, to have 



372 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

been here before this. Col. Hamilton, one of my aides, is up the 
North River, doing all he can to push them forward, but he writes 
me word that he finds many unaccountable delays thrown in his 
way. The want of these troops has embarrassed all my measures 
exceedingly." Col. Hamilton, on his way to the headquarters of 
Gates, at Albany, found Gov. Clinton and Gen. Putnam encamped 
on the opposite sides of the Hudson, just above the Highlands; 
the governor at New Windsor, Putnam at F'ishkill. About a mile 
from New Windsor, Nov. 2d, Hamilton met Morgan and his rifle- 
men, on the march for W^ashington's camp, having been thus 
tardily detached by Gates. Hamilton urged him to hasten on with 
all possible despatch, which he promised to do. The colonel had 
expected to find matters in such a train, that he would have little 
to do but hurry on ample reinforcements already on the march ; 
whereas, he found that a large part of the Northern army was to 
remain in and about Albany, about four thousand men to be spared 
to the commander-in-chief ; the rest were to be stationed on the 
east side of the Hudson with Putnam, who had projected an attack 
upon New York. Hamilton rather disconcerted his project by 
directing him, in Washington's name, to hurry forward two Con- 
tinental brigades to the latter, together with Warner's militia 
brigade; also, to order to Red Bank a body of Jersey militia about 
to cross to Pcckskill. Hamilton hastened on to Albany. He found 
siill less disposition on the part of Gates to furnish the troops 
required. There was no certainty, he said, that Clinton had gone 
to join Gen. Howe. There was a possibility of his returning up 
the river. The New England States would be left open to the 
ravages and depredations of the enemy ; beside, it would put it 
out of his power to attempt anything against Ticonderoga, an 
undertaking of great importance, in which he might engage in 
the winter. Hamilton felt, he says, how embarrassing a task it 
was for one so young as himself to oppose the opinions and plans 
of a veteran, whose successes had elevated him to the highest 
importance. It was with the greatest difficulty he prevailed on 
Gates to detach the brigades of Poor and Patterson to the aid of 
the commander-in-chief. The surrender of Burgoyne, though 
mainly the result of Washington's far-seeing plans, had suddenly 
trumped up Gates into a quasi rival. A letter written to Gates at 
the time, and still existing among his papers, lays open the spirit 
of the cabal. It is without signature, but in the handwriting of 
James Lovell, member of Congress from Massachusetts ; the same 
who had supported Gates in opposition to Schuyler. . The follow- 
ing are extracts : " You have saved our Northern Hemisphere ; 
and in spite of consummate and repeated blundering, you have 
changed the condition of the Southern campaign, on the part of 
the enemy, from offensive to defensive. The campaign here must 
soon close ; if our troops are obliged to retire to Lancaster, Read- 
ing, Bethlehem, etc., for winter-quarters, and the country below is 
laid open to the enemy's flying parties, great and very general will 
be the murmur — so great, so general, that nothing inferior to a 



1777.] WASHINGTON RECONNOJTERS. 373 

commander-in-chief will be able to resist the mighty torrent of 
public clamor and public vengeance." 

Sir William Howe followed up th'fe reduction of Fort Mifflin by 
an expedition against Fort Mercer, which still impeded the naviga- 
tion of the Delaware. On the 17th of Nov. Lord Cornwallis was 
detached with two thousand men to cross from Chester into the 
Jerseys, where he would be joined by a force advancing from New 
York. Apprised of this movement, Washington detached Gen. 
Huntington, with a brigade, to join Varnum at Red Bank. Gen, 
Greene was also ordered to repair thither with his division, and an 
express was sent off to Gen. Glover, who was on his way through 
the Jerseys with his brigade, directing him to file off to the left 
towards the same point. Before they could form a junction, how- 
ever, and reach their destination, CornwalUs appeared before it. 
A defence against such superior force was hopeless. The works 
were abandoned ; and the enemy proceeded to destroy them. 

The troops from the North arrived in ragged plight, owing to the 
derangement of the commissariat. A part of Morgan's rifle 
corps was absolutely unable to take the field for want of shoes, 
and such was was the prevalent want in this particular, that tea 
dollars reward was offered in general orders for a model of the 
best substitute for shoes that could be made out of raw hides. 
The enemy were now in possession of the river, but it was too late 
in the season to clear away the obstructions, and open a passage 
for the large ships. All that could be effected at present, was to 
opened a sufficient channel for transports and vessels of easy 
burden, to bring provisions and supplies for the army. Washing- 
ton advised the navy board to have all the American frigates 
scuttled and sunk immediately. The board objected to sinking 
them, but said they should be ballasted and plugged, ready to be 
sunk in case of attack. 

On the evening of the 24th of Nov. Washington reconnoitred, 
carefully and thoughtfully, the lines and defences about Philadel- 
phia, from the opposite side of the Schuylkill. His army was 
now considerably reinforced ; the garrison was weakened by the 
absence of a large body of troops under Lord Cornwallis in the 
Jerseys. Some of the general officers thought this an advanta- 
geous moment for an attack upon the city. Such was the opinion 
of Lord Stirhng ; and especially of Gen. Wayne, Mad Anthony, 
as he was familiarly called, always eager for some daring enter- 
prise. The recent victory at Saratoga had dazzled the public mind, 
and produced a general impatience for something equally striking 
and effective in this quarter. Everything in the neighborhood of 
their lines bore traces of the desolating hand of war. Several 
houses, owned probably by noted patriots, had been demolished ; 
others burnt. Villas stood roofless ; their doors and windows, and 
all the wood-work, had been carried off to make huts for the 
soldiery. Nothing iDut bare walls remained. Gardens had been 
trampled down and destroyed ; not a fence nor fruit-tree was to be 
seen. The gathering gloom of a November evening heightened 
the sadness of this desolation. With an anxious eye Washington 



374 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

scrutinized the enemy's works. They appeared to be exceedingly 
strong. A chain of redoubts extended along the most command- 
ing ground from the Schuylkill to the Delaware. They were 
framed, planked, and of great thickness, and were surrounded by 
a deep ditch, enclosed and fraised. The intervals were filled with 
an abatis, in constructing which all the apple trees of the neigh- 
borhood, beside forest trees, had been sacrificed. Washington saw 
there was an opportunity for a brilliant blow, that might satisfy the 
impatience of the public, and silence the sarcasms of the press ; 
but he saw that it must be struck at the expense of a fearful loss of 
life. Returning to camp, he held a council of war of his principal 
officers, in which the matter was debated at great length. At 
breaking up, he requested that each member of the council would 
give his opinion the next morning in writing, and he sent off a 
messenger in the night for the written opinion of Gen. Greene. 
Only four members of the council, Stirling, Wayne, Scott and 
Woodford, were in favor of an attack ; of which Lord Stirling drew 
up the plan. Eleven (including Greene) were against it, objecting, 
among other things, that the enemy's lines were too strong and too 
well supported, and their force too numerous, well disciplined and 
experienced, to be assailed without great loss and the hazard of a 
failure. Mad Washington been actuated by mere personal ambi- 
tion and a passion for military fame, or had he yielded to the goad- 
ings of faction and the press, he might have disregarded the loss 
and hazarded the failure; but his patriotism was superior to his 
ambition ; lie shrank from a glory that must be achieved at such a 
cost, and the idea of an attack was abandoned 

The INIarquis de Lafayette, though not quite recovered from the 
wound received at the battle of Brandywine, had accompanied 
Gen. Greene as a volunteer in his expedition into the Jerseys, and 
had been indulged by him with an opportunity of gratifying his 
belligerent humor, in a brush with Cornwallis's outposts. "The 
marquis," writes Greene, to Washington, "with about four hun- 
dred militia and the rifle corps, attacked the enemy's picket last 
evening, killed about twenty, wounded many more, and took about 
twenty prisoners. The marquis is charmed with the spirited 
behavior of the militia and rifle corps ; they drove the enemy 
above half a mile, and kept the ground until dark. The enemy's 
picket consisted of about three hundred, and were reinforced dur- 
ing the skirmish. The marquis is determined to be in the way of 
danger." Washington transmitted to Congress an account of 
Lafayette's youthful exploit. He received, in return, an intimation 
from that body, that it was their pleasure he should appoint the 
marquis to the command of a division in the Continental army. 
Lafayette was forthwith appointed to the command of Gen, 
Stephen's former division. 

At this juncture (Nov. 27th), a modification took place in the 
Board of War, indicative of the influence which was operating in 
Congress. It was increased from three to five members: Gen. 
Mifflin, Joseph Trumbull, Richard Peters, Col. Pickering, and 
last, though certainly not least, Gen. Gates. Gates was appointed 



1777-1 GEN. HOWE GROWS CAUTIOUS, 375 

president of the board, and the President of Congress was instructed 
to express to him, the high sense which that body entertained of 
his abilities and pecuhar fitness to discharge the duties of that 
important office, upon the right execution of which the success of 
the American cause so eminently depended ; and to inform him it 
was their intention to continue his rank as major-general, and that 
he might officiate at the board or in the field, as occasion might 
require ; furthermore, that he should repair to Congress with all 
convenient despatch, to enter upon the duties of his appointment. 
It was evidently the idea of the cabal that Gates was henceforth to 
be the master spirit of the war. While busy faction was thus at work, 
both in and out of Congress, to undermine the fame and authority 
of Washington, Gen. Howe, according to his own threat, was 
preparing to "drive him beyond the mountains." On the 4th of 
Dec, Capt. Allen McLane, a vigilant officer of the Maryland hne, 
brought word to headquarters, that an attack was to be made that 
very night on the camp at White Marsh. Washington made his 
dispositions to receive the meditated assault, and, in the mean time, 
detached McLane with one hundred men to reconnoitre. The 
latter met the van of the enemy about eleven o'clock at night, on 
the Germantown Road ; attacked it at the Three Mile Run, forced 
it to change its line of march, and hovered about and impeded it 
throughout the night. The enemy appeared at daybreak, and 
encamped on Chestnut Hill, within three miles of Washington's 
right wing. Brigadier-general James Irvine, with 600 militia, was 
sent out to skirmish with their light advanced parties. After a 
short conflict, in which several were killed and wounded, his troops 
gave way and fled in all directions, leaving him and four or five 
of his men wounded on the field. Gen. Howe passed the day in 
reconnoitring, and at night changed his ground, and moved to a 
hill on the left, and within a mile of the American line. He had 
scrutinized Washington's position and pronounced it inaccessible. 
For three days he manoeuvred to draw him from it, shifting his 
own position occasionally, but still keeping on advantageous 
ground. Washington was not to be decoyed. He knew the vast 
advantages which superior science, discipline and experience gave 
the enemy in open field fight, and remained within his lines. On 
the 7th there was every appearance that Howe meditated an attack 
on the left wing. Washington's heart now beat high, and he 
prepared for a warm and decisive action. In the course of the day 
he rode through every brigade, giving directions how the attack 
was to be met, and exhorting his troops to depend mainly on the 
bayonet. His men were inspired by his words, but still more by 
his looks, so calm and determined ; for the soldier regards the 
demeanor more than the words of his general in the hour of peril. 
The day wore away with nothing but skirmishes, in which Morgan's 
riflemen, and the Maryland mihtia under Col. Gist, rendered 
good service ; but no attack took place. The spirit manifested by 
the Americans in their recent contests, had rendered the British 
commanders cautious. The next day, in the afternoon, the enemy 
were again in motion ; but instead of advancing, filed off to the left. 



376 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

halted, and lit up a long string of fires on the heights ; behind 
which they retreated, silently and precipitately, in the night. By 
the time Washington received intelligence of their movement, they 
were in full march by two or three routes for Philadelphia. He 
immediately detached light parties to fall upon their rear, but they 
were too far on the way for any but lighthorse to overtake them. 

Winter had now set in with all its severity. The troops, worn 
down by long and hard service, had need of repose. Poorly clad, 
also, and almost destitute of blankets, they required a warmer 
shelter than mere tents against the inclemencies of the season. 
The plan adopted by Washington, after holding a council of war, 
and weighing the discordant opinions of his officers, was to hut the 
army for the winter at Valley Forge, in Chester County, and the 
west side of the Schuylkill, about twenty miles from Philadelphia. 
Here he would be able to keep a vigilant eye on that city, and at 
the same time protect a great extent of country. Sad and dreary 
was the march to Valley Forge; uncheered by the recollection of 
any recent triumph, as was the march to winterquarters in the pre- 
ceding year. Hungry and cold were the poor fellows who had so 
long been keeping the field ; for provisions were scant, clothing 
worn out, and so badly off were they for shoes, that the footsteps of 
many might be tracked in blood. Yet at this very time we are told, 
"hogsheads of shoes, stockings, and clothing, were lying at differ- 
ent places on the roads and in the woods, perishing for want of 
teams, or of money to pay the teamsters." Such were the conse- 
quences of the derangement of the commissariat. 

Arrived at Valley Forge on the 17th, (Dec. 1777) the troops had 
still to brave the wintry weather in their tents, until they could cut 
down trees and construct huts for their accommondation. Those 
who were on the sick list had to seek temporary shelter among the 
farmers of the neighborhood. Each hut was fourteen feet by six- 
teen, with walls of logs filled in with clay, six feet and a half high ; 
the fireplaces were of logs plastered ; and logs split into rude planks 
or slabs furnished the roofing. A hut was allotted to twelve non- 
commissioned officers and soldiers. A general-officer had a hut to 
himself. The same was allowed to the staff of each brigade and 
regiment, and the field officer of each regiment ; and a hut to the 
commissioned officers of each company. The huts of the soldiery 
fronted on the streets. Those of the officers formed a line in the 
rear, and the encampment gradually assumed the look of a rude 
military village. Scarce had the troops been two days employed 
in these labors, when, before daybreak on the 22d, word was 
brought that a body of the enemy had made a sortie toward Ches- 
ter, apparently on a foraging expedition. Washington issued or- 
ders to Gen. Huntington and Varnum to hold their troops in read- 
iness to march against them. Their replies bespeak the forlorn 
state cf tlie army. " Fighting will be far perfcrable to starving," 
writes Huntington. " My brigade are out of privisions, nor can the 
commissary obtain any meat. I have used every argument my 
imagination can invent to make the soldiers easy, but I despair of 
being able to do it much longer." " It's a very pleasing circum- 



1777-8- J THE ARMY A T VALLEY FORGE. 377 

stance to the division under my command," writes Varnum, "that 
there is a probability of their marching ; three days successively 
we have been destitute of bread. Two days we have been entirely 
without meat. The men must be supplied, or they cannot be com- 
manded." In fact, a dangerous mutiny had broken out among 
the famishing troops in the preceding night, which their officers 
had had great difficulty in quelling. Washington instantly wrote 
to the President of Congress on the subject. '• I do not know from 
what cause this alarming deficiency, or rather total failure of sup- 
plies arises ; but unless more vigorou exertions and better regula- 
tions take place in the commissaries' s department immediately, the 
anny must dissolve. In the present exigency, to save his camp 
from desolation, and to relieve his starving soldiery, he was com- 
pelled to exercise the authority recently given him by Congress, to 
forage the country round, seize supplies wherever he could find 
them, and pay for them in money or in certificates redeemable by 
Congress. He exercised these powers with great reluctance ; 
rurally inclined himself, he had a strong sympathy with the culti- 
vators of the soil, and ever regarded the yeomanry with a paternal 
eye. He was apprehensive, moreover, of irritating the jealousy of 
military sway, prevalent throughout the country', and of corrupting 
the morals of the army. "Such procedures," writes he to the 
President of Congress, "may give a momentary relief; but if 
repeated, will prove of the most pernicious consequence. Beside 
spreading disaffection, jealousy and fear among the people, they 
never fail, even in the most veteran troops, under the most rigid 
and exact discipline, to raise in the soldiery a disposition to licen- 
tiousness, to plunder and robbery, difficult to suppress afterward, 
and which has proved not only ruinous to the inhabitants, but in 
many instances to armies themselves." Howtruly in all these try- 
ing scenes of his military career, does the patriot rise above the 
soldier ! It had been one of the most arduous and eventful years 
of his military life, and one the most trying to his character and 
fortunes. He began it with an empty army chest, and a force 
dwindled down to four thousand half-disciplined men. Through- 
out the year he had had to contend, not merely with the enemy, 
but with the parsimony and meddlesome interference of Congress. 
In his most critical times that body had left him without funds and 
■without reinforcements. Marvellous indeed was the manner in 
^vhich he had soothed the discontents of his aggrieved officers, and 
reconciled them to an ill-requiting service ; and still more marvel- 
lous the manner in which he had breathed his own spirit of patience 
and perseverance in his yeoman soldiery, during their sultry march- 
ings and countermarchings through the Jerseys, under all kinds of 
privation, Avith no visible object of pursuit to stimulate their ardor, 
hunting, as it were, the rumored apparitions of an unseen fleet. 
All this time, too, while endeavoring to ascertain and counteract 
the operations of Lord Howe upon the ocean, and his brother upon 
the land, he Avas directing and aiding military measures against 
Burgoyne in the North. Three games were in a manner going on 
under his supervision. The operations of the commander-in-chief 



378 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

are not always most obvious to the public eyes ; victories may be 
planned in his tent, of which subordinate generals get the credit ; 
and most of the moves which ended in giving a triumphant check 
to Burgoyne, may be traced to Washington's shifting camp in the 
Jerseys. The machinations and intrigues which had displaced the 
noble-hearted Schuyler from the head of the Northern department, 
■were now at work to undermine the commander-in-chief, and 
elevate the putative hero of Saratoga on his ruins. In no part of 
the war did Washington more thoroughly evince that magnan- 
imity which was his grand characteristic than in the last scenes of 
this campaign, where he rose above the tauntings of the press, the 
sneering of the cabal, the murmurs of the pubhc, the suggestions 
of some of his friends, and the throbbing impulses of his own cou- 
rageous heart and adhered to that Fabian policy which he consid- 
ered essential to the safety of the cause. To dare is often the 
impulse of selfish ambition or hare-brained valor ; to forbear is at 
times the proof of real greatness, — Gates was the constant theme 
of popular eulogium, and was held up by the cabal, as 
the only one capable of retrieving the desperate fortunes 
of the South. Letters from his friends in Congress urged him to 
hasten on, take his seat at the head of the Board of War, assume 
the management of military affairs, and save the country ! He 
was not a strong-minded man. It is a wonder, then, that his brain 
should be bewildered by the fumes of incense offered up on every 
side ? In the midst of his triumph, however, while feasting on the 
sweets of adulation, came the withering handwriting on the wall! 
It is an epistle from his friend Mifflin. "My dear General." writes 
he, " an extract from Conway's letter to you has been procured and 
sent to headquarters. The extract was a collection of just sen- 
timents, yet such as should not have been intrusted to any of your 
family. General Washington enclosed it to Conway without 
remarks. Nothing could surpass the trouble and confusion of 
mind of Gates on the perusal of this letter. Part of his correspond- 
ence with Conway had been sent to headquarters. But what part? 
What was the purport and extent of the alleged extracts? How 
had they been obtained? Who had sent them? He then wrote to 
"Washington, who replied with characteristic dignity and candor: 
"Col. Wilkinson, on his way to Congress, in the month of October last, 
fell in with Lord Stirling at Reading, and, not in confidence, that 
I ever understood, informed his aide-de-camp, Major McWilliams, 
that General Conway had written this to you : ' Heaven has been 
determined to save your country, or a weak general and bad coun- 
sellors would have ruined it.' Lord Stirling, from motives of friend- 
ship, transmitted the account with this remark : ' The enclosed was 
communicated by Col. Wilkinson to Major McWilliams. Such 
wicked duplicity of conduct I shall always think it my duty to 
detect.' " "Neither this letter," continues he, " nor the informa- 
tion which occasioned it, was ever directly or indirectly communi- 
cated by me to a single officer in this army, out of my own family, 
excepting the Marquis de Lafayette, who, having been spoken to 
on the subject by Gen. Conway, applied for and saw, under injunc- 



1778. INTRIGUES AGAINST WASHINGTON, 379 

tions of secrecy, the letter which contained Wilkinson's informa- 
tion ; so desirious was I of concealing every matter that could, in 
its consequences, give the smallest interruption to the tranquillity 
of this army, or afford a gleam of hope to the enemy by dissensions 
therein. Till Lord Stirhng's letter came to my hands, I never 
knew that Gen. Conway, whom I viewed in the light of a stranger 
to you, was a correspondent of yours ; much less did I suspect that 
I was the subject of your confidential letters. Pardon me, then, 
for adding, that so far from conceiving the safety of the States can 
be affected, or in the smallest degree injured, by a discovery of 
this kind, or that I should be cilled upon in such solemn terms to 
point out the author, I considered the information as coming from 
yourself, and given with a view to forwarn, and consequently to 
forearm me, against a secret enemy, or in other words, a danger- 
ous incendiary ; in which character sooner or later this country 
wiU know Gen. Conway. But in this, as in other matters of late, 
I have found myself mistaken." This clear and ample answer 
showed that the betrayal of the defamatory correspondence was 
due to the babbling of Wilkinson. 

Gates was disposed to mark his advent to power by a striking" 
operation. An expedition was to proceed from Albany, cross 
Lake Champlain on the ice, burning the British shipping at St. 
John's, and press forward to Montreal. Washington was not con- 
sulted in the matter : the project was submitted to Congress, and 
sanctioned by them without his privity. One object of the scheme 
was to detach the Marquis de Lafayette from Washington, to 
whom he was devotedly attached, and bring him into the interests 
of the cabal. For this purpose he was to have the command of 
the expedition ; an appointment which it was thought would tempt 
his military ambition. Conway was to be second in command, 
and it was trusted that his address and superior intelligence would 
virtually make him the leader. The first notice that Washington 
received of the project was in a letter from Gates, enclosing one to 
Lafayette, informing the latter of his appointment, and requiring 
his attendance at Yorktown to receive his instructions. Lafayette 
was so disgusted by the want of deference and respect to the 
commander-in-chief evinced in the whole proceedings, that he 
would at once have declined the appointment, had not Washing- 
ton himself advised him strongly to accept it. Gates was profuse 
of promises. Everything was to be made smooth and easy for 
Lafayette. He was to have at least two thousand five hundred 
fighting men under him. Stark, the veteran Stark, was ready to 
cooperate with a body of Green Mountain Boys. It was near the 
end of a repast. The wine had circulated freely, and toasts had 
been given according to the custom of the day. The marquis 
thought it time to show his flag. One toast, he observed, had 
been omitted, which he would now propose. Glasses were accord- 
ingly filled, and he gave "The commander-in-chief of the Ameri- 
can armies." The toast was received without cheering. Lafay- 
ette was faithful to the flag which he had unfurled. In accepting 
the command, he considered himself detached from the main 



38o LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

anny under the immediate orders of the commander-in-chief. He 
made a point of having the Baron de Kalb appointed to the expe- 
dition ; whose commission being of older date than that of Con- 
way, would make him second in command. He set out for Albany 
without any very sanguine expectations. Writing to Washington 
from Flemmington, amid the difficulties of winter travel, he says : 
" I go on very slowly ; sometimes drenched by rain, sometimes 
covered with snow, and not entertaining many handsome thoughts 
about the projected excursion into Canada. Lake Champlain is 
too cold for producing the least bit of laurel; and, if I am not 
starved, I shall be as proud as if I had gained three battles.'* 
Gen. Conway had arrived at Albany three days before the mar- 
quis, and his first words when they met was that the expedition 
was quite impossible. Generals Schuyler, Lincoln and Arnold had 
written to Conway to that effect. The marquis was at first inclined 
to hope the contrary, but his hope was soon demolished. Instead 
of the two thousand five hundred men that had been promised 
him, not twelve hundred in all were to be found fit for duty, and 
most part of these were " naked even for a summer's campaign ;'* 
all shrank from a winter incursion into so cold a country. As to 
Gen. Stark and his legion of Green Mountain Boys, the marquis 
received at Albany a letter from the veteran, "who wishes to know," 
says he, " what nitvibcr of vten.for luhat time, and for luhat ren- 
dezvous, I desire him to raised The poor marquis was in despair 
— but what most distressed him was the dread of ridicule. He 
had written to his friends that he had the command of the expedi- 
tion ; it would be known throughout Europe. Washington, with 
his considerate paternal counsels, hastened to calm the perturba- 
tion tjf his youthful friend, and dispel those fears respecting his 
reputation, excited only, as he observed, "by an uncommon 
degree of sensibility." " It will be no disadvantage to you to have 
it known in Europe," writes he, " that you have received so mani- 
fest a proof of the good opinion and confidence of Congress as an 
important detached command." The project of an irruption into 
Canada was at length formally suspended by a resolve of Con- 
gress ; and Washington was directed to recall the marquis and the 
Baron de Kalb, the presence of the latter being deemed absolutely 
necessary to the army at Valley Forge. Lafayette at the same 
time received assurance of the high sense entertained by Congress 
of his prudence, activity and zeal, and that nothing was wanting 
on his part to give the expedition the utmost possible effect. He 
gladly hastened back to Valley Forge, to enjoy the companionship 
and find himself once more under the paternal eye of Washing- 
ton; leaving Conway for the time in command at Albany, 
** where there would be nothing perhaps to be attended to but 
some disputes of Indians and tories." 

During the winter's encampment in Valley Forge, Washington 
sedulously applied himself to the formation of a new system for 
the army. At his earnest solicitation Congress appointed Gen. Reed, 
Nathaniel Folsom, Francis Dana, Charles Carrol, and Gouverneur 
Morris a Committee of arrangements, to repair to the camp and assist 



1778.] SUFFERINGS OF THE ARMY. 381 

him in the task. Before their arrival he had collected the written 
opinions and suggestions of his officers on the subject, and from 
these, and his own observations and experience, had prepared a doc- 
ument exhibiting the actual state of the amiy, the defects of pre- 
vious systems, and the alterations and reforms that were neces- 
sary. The committee remained three months with him in camp, 
and then made a report to Congress founded on his statement. 
Washington had urged that the pay of the officers was insufficient 
for their decent subsistence, especially during the actual deprecia- 
tion of the currency ; and that many resignations were the conse- 
quence. He recommended not only that their pay should be 
increased, but that there should be a provision for their future 
support, by half pay and a pensionary establishment ; so as to 
secure them from being absolutely impoverished in the service of 
their country. But all that Washington could effect by 
strenuous and unremitted exertions, was a kind of compromise, 
according to which officers were to receive half pay for seven 
years after the war, and non-commissioned officers and privates 
eighty dollars each. The reforms adopted were slow in going into 
operation. In the meantime, the distress of the army continued to 
increase. The surrounding country for a great distance was 
exhausted, and had the appearance of having been pillaged. In 
some places where the inhabitants had provisions and cattle they 
denied it, intending to take them to Philadelphia, where they could 
obtain greater prices. The undisturbed communication with the 
city had corrupted the minds of the people in its vicinage.^ *• This 
State is sick even unto the death," said Gouverneur Morris. The 
parties sent out to forage too often returned empty handed. 
" For some days past there has been little less than a famine in 
the camp," writes Washington, on one occasion. " A part of the 
army has been a week without any kind of flesh, and the rest 
three or four days. Naked and starving as they are, we cannot 
enough admire the incomparable patience and fidelity of the sol- 
diery, that they have not been, ere this, excited by their suffering 
to a general mutiny and desertion." The committee, in their 
report, declared that the want of straw had cost the lives of many 
of the troops. "Unprovided with this, or materials to raise them 
from the cold and wet earth, sickness and mortality have spread 
through their quarters in an astonishing degree. Nothing can 
equal their sufferings, except the patience and fortitude with which 
the faithful part of the army endure them. Steadman, a British 
historian, cites as a proof of the great ascendency of Washington 
over his "raw and undisciplined troops," that so many remained 
with him throughout the winter, in this wretched situation and still 
more wretched plight ; almost naked, often on short allowance, 
with great sickness and mortality, and a scarcity of medicine, their 
horses perishing by hundreds from hunger and the severity of the 
season. He gives a striking picture of the indolence and luxury 
which reigned at the same time in the British army in Philadel- 
phia. It is true, the investment of the city by the Americans ren- 
dered provisions dear and fuel scanty ; but the consequent priva- 



382 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

tions were felt by the inhabitants, not by their invaders. The lat- 
ter revelled as if in a conquered place. Private houses were occu- 
pied without rendering compensation; the officers were quartered 
on the principal inhabitants, many of whom were of the Society of 
Friends. The quiet habits of the city were outraged by the disso- 
lute habits of a camp. Gaming prevailed to a shameless degree. 
A foreign officer kept a faro bank, at which he made a fortune, 
and some of the young officers ruined themselves. '• During the 
whole of this long winter of riot and dissipation," continues the 
same writer, "Washington was suffered to remain undisturbed at 
Valley Forge, with an anny not exceeding five thousand effective 
men ; and his cannon frozen up and immovable. A nocturnal 
attack might have forced him to a disadvantageous action or com- 
pelled him to a disastrous retreat, leaving behind him his sick, can- 
non, ammunition and heavy baggage. It might have opened the 
way for supplies to the city, and shaken off the lethargy of the 
British army."* 

Capt. Henry Lee (Light-horse Harry) had made himself formi- 
dable to the enemy by harassing their foraging parties. An 
attempt was made to surprise him at the advanced post, where he 
was stationed with a few men. A party of about two hundred 
dragoons, taking a circuitous route in the night, came upon him by 
day-break. He took post in a large store-house. His scanty force 
did not allow a soldier for each window. The dragoons attempted 
to force their way into the house, but were bravely repulsed, and 
sheered off, leaving two killed and four wounded. Washington, 
whose heart evidently warmed more and more to this young Vir- 
ginian officer, the son of his "lowland beauty," not content with 
noticing his exploit in general orders, wrote a note to him on the 
subject, expressed with unusual familiarity and warmth. " My 
clear Lee," writes he, "although I have given you my thanks in the 
[general orders of this day, for the late instance of your gallant 
Ijehaviov, I cannot resist the inclination I feel to repeat them again 
in this manner. I needed no fresh proof of your merit to bear 
you in remembrance. I waited only for the proper time and season 
to show it; those I hope are not far off." Not long afterwards he 
strongly recommended Lee for the command of two troops of horse, 
with the rank of major, to act as an independent partisan corps. 
"His genius," observes he, "pardcularly adapts him to a com- 
mand of this nature ; and it will be the most agreeable to him of 
any station in which he could be placed." It was a high gratifi- 
cation to Washington when Congress made this appointment; 
accompanying it with encomiums on Lee as a brave and prudent 
officer, who had rendered essential service to the country, and 
acquired distinguished honor to himself and the corps he com- 
manded. 

About this time Washington received a letter from Gen. Lee, 
who was still in the hands of the enemy. " I have the strong- 
est reason to flatter myself," writes Lee, "that you will interest 
yourself in whatever interests my comfort and welfare. I think it 
my duty to inform you that my situation is much bettered. It is 



1778.] BARON STEUBEN DRILLS THE ARMY, 383 

now five days that I am on my parole. I have the full liberty of 
the city and its limits ; have horses at my command furnished by 
Sir Henry Chnton and Gen. Robertson ; am lodged with two of the 
oldest and warmest friends I have in the world, Col. Butler and 
Col. Disney of the forty-second regiment. In short, my situation 
is rendered as easy, comfortable and pleasant as possible, for a 
man who is in any sort a prisoner." Washington replied : " You may 
rest assured that I feel myself very much interested in your wel- 
fare, and that every exertion has been used on my part to effect 
your exchange. I am authorized to expect that you will return in 
a few days to your friends on parole, as Major-General Prescott 
will be sent in on the same terms for that purpose." Difficulties, 
however, still occurred ; and Gen. Lee and Col. Ethan Allen were 
doomed for a few months longer to suffer the annoyance of hope 
deferred. The embarkation of Gen. Burgoyne and his troops 
from Boston, became also a subject of difficulty and delay ; it 
being alleged that some stipulations of the treaty of surrender had 
not been complied with. Burgoyne subsequently obtained per- 
mission for his own return to England on parole, on account of 
ill health. 

In the month of February, Mrs. Washington rejoined the gen- 
eral at Valley Forge, and took up her residence at headquarters. 
The aiTangements consequent to her arrival bespeak the simplicity 
of style in this rude encampment. •• The general's apartment is 
very small," writes she to a friend; "he has had a log cabin built 
to dine in, which has made our quarters much more tolerable than 
they were at first." Lady Stirling, Mrs. Knox, the wife of the gen- 
eral, and the wives of other of the officers were also in the camp. 
The reforms in the commissariat had begun to operate. Provi- 
sions arrived in considerable quantities ; supplies, on their way to the 
Philadelphia market to load the British tables, were intercepted 
and diverted into the hungry camp of the patriots ; magazines 
were formed in Valley Forge ; the threatened famine was averted ; 
"grim-visaged war" gradually relaxed his features, and affairs in 
the encampment began to assume a more cheering aspect. 

Baron Steuben arrived in the camp towards the latter part of 
February. He was a seasoned soldier from the old battlefields of 
Europe ; having served in the seven years' war, and been aide-de- 
camp to the great Frederick. Honors had been heaped upon him 
in Germany. After leaving the Prussian army he had been grand 
marshal of the court of the Prince of Hohenzollern-Hechingen, 
colonel in the circle of Suabia, lieutenant-general under the Prince 
Margrave of Baden, and knight of the Order of Fidelity ; and 
he had declined liberal offers from the King of Sardinia and the 
Emperor of Austria. With an income of about three thousand 
dollars, chiefly arising from various appointments, he was living 
pleasantly in distinguished society at the German courts, and mak- 
ing occasional visits to Paris, when he was persuaded by the Count 
de St. Germain, French Minister of War, and others of the French 
cabinet, to come out to America, and engage in the cause they 
were preparing to befriend. Their object was to secure for the 



384 LIFE OF WASHING TON. 

American armies the services of an officer of experience and a 
thorough discipHnarian. Through their persuasions he resigned 
his several offices, and came out at forty-eight years of age, a sol- 
dier of fortune, to the rude fighting grounds of America, to aid a 
half-disciphned people in their struggle for liberty. No certainty 
of remuneration was held out to him, but there was an opportunity 
for acquiring mihtary glory; the probability of adequate reward 
should the young republic be successful ; and it was hinted that, 
at all events, the French court would not suffer him to be a loser. 
As his means, on resigning his offices, were small, Beaumarchais 
furnished funds for his immediate expenses. The baron had 
brought strong letters from Dr. Franklin and Mr. Deane, our 
envoys at Paris, and from the Count St. Gemiain. Landing in 
Portsmouth in New Hampshire, Dec. 1st, he had forwarded copies 
of his letters to Washington. '• The object of my greatest ambi- 
tion," writes he, "is to render your country all the service in my 
power, and to deserve the title of a citizen of America by fighting 
for the cause of your liberty. I would say, moreover, were it not 
for the fear of offending your modesty, that your Excellency is the 
only person under whom, after having served under the King of 
Prussia, I could wish to pursue an art to which I have wholly given 
myself up." By Washington's direction, the baron had proceeded 
direct to Congress. His letters procured him a distinguished 
reception from the president. He offered his services as a volun- 
teer : making no condition for rank or pay, but trusting, should he 
prove himself worthy and the cause be crowned with success, he 
would be indemnified for the sacrifices he had made, and receive 
such further compensation as he might be thought to merit. The 
baron's proffered services were accepted with a vote of thanks for 
his disinterestedness, and he was ordered to join the army at Val- 
ley Forge. That army, in its ragged condition and squalid quar- 
ters, presented a sorry aspect to a strict disciplinarian from Ger- 
many, accustomed to the order and appointments of European 
camps; and the baron declared, that under such circumstances no 
army in Europe could be kept together for a single month. His 
liberal mind, however, made every allowance ; and Washington 
soon found in him a consummate soldier, free from pedantry or 
pretention. Washington proposed to the baron to undertake the 
office of inspector-general. The latter cheerfully agreed. Two 
ranks of inspectors were appointed under him ; the lowest to 
inspect brigades, the highest to superintend several of these. 
Among the inspectors was a French gentleman of the name of 
Ternant, chosen not only for his intrinsic merit and abilities, but 
on account of his being well versed in the English as well as the 
French language, which made him a necessary assistant to the 
baron, who, at times, needed an interpreter. The gallant Fleury, 
to whom Congress had given the rank and pay of lieutenant- 
colonel, and who had exercised the office of aide-major in France, 
was soon after employed likewise as an inspector. In a little while 
the whole army was under drill ; for a great part, made up of raw 
militia, scarcely knew the manual exercise. Many of the officers, 



I778.J BARON STEUBEN DRILLS THE ARMY. 3S5 

too, knew little of manceuvring, and the best of them had much to 
learn. The baron furnished his sub-inspectors with written 
instructions relative to their several functions. He took a com- 
pany of soldiers under his immediate training, and after he had 
sufficiently schooled it, made it a model for the others, exhibiting 
the manoeuvres they had to practice. It was a severe task at first 
for the aide-de-camp of the Great Frederick to operate upon such 
raw materials. His ignorance of the language, too, increased the* 
difficulty, where manoeuvres were to be explained or rectified. He 
was in despair, until an officer of a New York regiment. Captain 
Walker, who spoke French, stepped forward and offered to act as 
interpreter. " Had I seen an angel from Heaven," says the baron, 
"I could not have been more rejoiced." He made Walker his 
aide-de-camp, and from that time had him always at hand. For a 
time, there was nothing but drills throughout the camp, then grad- 
ually came evolutions of every kind. The officers were schooled 
as well as the men. The troops were paraded in a single line 
with shouldered arms; every officer in his place. The baron passed 
in front, then took the musket of each soldier in hand, to see 
whether it was clean and well pohshed, and examined whether the 
men's accoutrements were in good order. He was sadly worried for a 
time with the militia ; especially when any manoeuvre was to be 
performed. The men blundered in their exercise ; the baron 
blundered in his English ; his French and German were of no 
avail ; he lost his temper, which was rather warm ; swore in all 
three languages at once, which made the matter worse, and at 
length called his aide to his assistance — to help him curse the 
blockheads, as it was pretended — but no doubt to explain the 
manoeuvre. Still the grand mai-shal of the court of Hohenzollern 
mingled with the veteran soldier of Frederick, and tempered his 
occasional bursts of impatience ; and he had a kind, generous 
heart, that soon made him a favorite with the men. His discipline 
extended to their comforts. He inquired into their treatment by 
the officers. He examined the doctor's reports; visited the sick; 
and saw that they were well lodged and attended. He was an 
example, too, of the regularity and system he exacted. One of 
the most alert and indefatigable men in the camp ; up at daybreak 
if not before, whenever there were to be any important manoeuvres, 
he took iiis cup of coffee and smoked his pipe while his servant 
dressed his hair, and by sunrise he was in the saddle, equipped at 
all points, with the star of his order of knighthood glittering on 
his breast, and was off to the parade, alone, if his suite were not 
ready to attend him. His strong good sense was evinced in the 
manner in which he adapted his tactics to the nature of the army 
and the situation of the country, instead of adhering with bigotry 
to the system of Europe. His instructions were appreciated by all. 
The officers received them gladly and confonned to them. The 
men soon became active and adroit. The army gradually ac- 
quired a proper organization, and began to operate like a great 
machine ; and Washington found in the baron an intelligent, 

13 



386 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

disinterested, truthful coadjutor, well worthy of the badge he wore 
as a knight of the Order of Fidelity. 

Another great satisfaction to Washington, was the appointment 
by Congress (March 3d) of Greene to the office of quartermaster- 
general ; still retaining his rank of major-general in the army. 
Greene undertook the office with reluctance, and agreed to per- 
form the military duties of it without compensation for the space of 
a year. He found it in great disorder and confusion, but, by 
extraordinary exertions and excellent system, so arranged it, as to 
put the army in a condition to take the field and move with rapid- 
ity the moment it should be required. The favor in which Greene 
stood with the commander-in-chief, arose from the abundant proofs 
Washington had received in times of trial and difficulty, that he 
had a brave, affectionate heart, a sound head, and an efficient arm, 
on all of which he could throughly rely. 

The Highlands of the Hudson had been carefully reconnoitered 
m the course of the winter by Gen. Putnam, Gov. Clinton, his 
brother James, and several others, and subsequently by a commit- 
tee from the New York Legislature, to determine upon the most 
eligible place to be fortified. West Point was ultimately chosen : 
and Major-general IMcDougall Avas ordered to the Highlands, to 
take command of the different posts in that department, and to 
press forward the construction of the works, m which he was to be 
assisted by Kosciuszko, an engineer. 

I^y a resolution of Congress on the 15th, Gates was directed to 
resume the command of the Northern department, and to proceed 
forthwith to Fishkill for that purpose. He was invested with pow- 
ers for completing the Avorks on the Hudson, and authorized to 
caiTy on operations against the enemy should any favorable oppor- 
tunity offer, but he was not to undertake any expedition against 
New York without previously consulting the commander-in-chief. 
Washington was requested to assemble a council of major-generals 
to determine upon a plan of operations, and Gates and Mifflin, by 
a. subsequent resolution, were ordered to attend that council. 
This arrangement, putting Gates under Washington's order, 
evinced the determination of Congress to sustain the latter in his 
joroper authority. 

Ihe capture of Burgoyne and his army Avas now operadng with 
powerful effect on the cabinets of both England and France. 
vVith the former it was coupled Avith the apprehension that France 
Avas about to espouse the American cause. The consequence was 
Lord North's " Conciliatory Bills," as they Avere called, submitted 
by him to Parliament, and passed Avith but shght opposition. One 
of these bills regulated taxation in the American colonies, in a manner 
which, it Avas trusted, Avould obviate every objection. The other 
authorized the appointment of commissioners clothed Avith powers 
to negotiate Avith the existing governments ; to proclaim a cessa- 
tion of hostilities ; to grant pardons, and to adopt other measures 
of a conciliatory nature. Intelligence that a treaty betAveen 
France and the United States had actually been concluded at 
Paris, induced the British minister to hurry off a draft of the bills 



1778.] TREAl'V IVIIH FRANCE. 387 

to America, to forestall the effects of the treaty upon the public 
mind. Gen. Tryon caused copies of it to be printed in New York 
and circulated through the country. He sent several of them to 
General Washington, 15th April, with a request that they should 
be communicated to the officers and privates of his army. Wash- 
ington transmitted them to Congress, observing that the time to 
entertain such overtures was past. "Nothing short of indepen- 
dence, it appears to me, can possibly do. A peace on other terms 
would, if I may be allowed the expression, be a peace of war. 
The injuries we have received from the British nation were so 
unprovoked, and have been so great and so many, that they can 
never be forgotten." These and other objections advanced by him 
met with the concurrence of Congress, and it was unanimously 
resolved that no conference could be held, no treaty made with any 
commissioners on the part of Great Britain, until that power should 
have withdrawn its fleets and armies, or acknowledged in positive 
and express terms the independence of the United States. 

The negotiations with the French Cabinet which had gone on so 
slowly as almost to reduce our commissioners to despair, were 
brought to a happy termination, and on the 2d of May, ten days 
after the passing by Congress of the resolves just cited, a messen- 
ger arrived express from France with two treaties, one of amity 
and commerce, the other of defensive alliance, signed in Paris on 
the 6th of February by M. Girard on the part of France, and by 
Benjamin Franklin, Silas Deane, and Arthur Lee on the part of 
the United States. This last treaty stipulated that, should war 
ensue between France and England, it should be made a common 
cause by the contracting parties, in which neither should make 
truce or peace with Great Britain without the consent of the other, 
nor either lay down their arms until the independence of the United 
States was established. These treaties were unanimously ratified 
by Congress, and their promulgation was celebrated by public 
rejoicings throughout the country. The 6th of May was set apart 
for a military fete at the camp at Valley Forge. The army was 
assembled in best array ; there was solemn thanksgiving by the 
chaplains at the head of each brigade; after which a grand 
parade, a national discharge of thirteen guns, a general feu de 
joie, and shouts of the whole army, " Long live the King of France 
—Long live the friendly European powers — Huzza for the Ameri- 
can States." A banquet succeeded, at which Washington dined 
in public with all the officers of his army, attended by a band of 
music. Patriotic toasts were given and heartily cheered. Wash- 
ington retired at five o'clock, on which there was universal huzza- 
ing and clapping of hands — " Long live General Washington.'* 
The shouts continued till he had proceeded a quarter of a mile, 
and a thousand hats were tossed in the air. Washington and his 
suite turned round several times and cheered in reply. The 
commander-in-chief was supreme i*n the affections of the army. 

On the 8th, the council of war, ordered by Congress, was con- 
vened; at which were present Major-generals Gates, Greene, 
Stirling, Mifflin, Lafayette, De Kalb, Armstrong and Steuben, and 



388 L/r£ OF WASHINGTON, 

Brigadier-generals Knox and Duportail. It was unanimously 
determined to remain on the defensive, and not attempt any offen- 
sive operation until some opportunity should occur to strike a suc- 
cessful blow. Gen. Lee was not present at the council, but after- 
wards signed the decision. 

The military career of Sir William Howe in the United States 
was now drawing to a close. His conduct of the war had given 
much dissatisfaction in England. His enemies observed that 
everything gained by the troops was lost by the general; that he 
had suffered an enemy widi less than four thousand men to recon- 
quer a province which he had recently reduced, and lay a kind of 
siege to his army in their winter quarters ; and that he had brought 
a sad reverse upon the British arms by failing to cooperate vigor- 
ously and efHciently with Burgoyne. Sir William had tendered 
his resignation, which had been promptly accepted, and Sir Henry 
Clinton ordered to relieve him. Clinton arrived in Philadelphia on 
the 8th of May, and took command of the army on the Jith. 

At this time the number of British chivalry in Philadelphia was 
nineteen thousand five hundred and thirty, cooped up in a manner 
by an American force at Valley Forge, amounting, according to 
official returns to eleven thousand eight hundred men. Soon after 
Sir Henry Clinton had taken the command, there were symptoms 
of an intention to evacuate the city. Lafayette was therefore 
detached by Washington, with twenty -one hundred chosen men 
and five pieces of cannon, to take a position where he might be at 
hand to gain information, watch the movements of the enemy, 
check their predatory excursions, and fall on their rear when in the 
act of^ withdrawing. The marquis crossed the Schuylkill on the 
i8th of May, and proceeded to Bjwren Hill, about half Avay 
between Washington's camp and Philadelphia, and about eleven 
miles from both. Here he planted his cannon facing the south, 
with rocky ridges bordering the Schuylkill on his right ; woods 
and stone houses on his left. Behind him the roads forked, one 
branch leading to Matson's Ford on the Schuylkill, tlie other by 
Swedes' Ford to Valley Forge. \\\ advance of his left wing was 
McLane's company and about fifty Indians. Pickets and videttes 
were placed in the woods to the south, through which the roads 
led to Philadelphia, and a body of six hundred Pennsylvania 
miUtia were stationed to keep watch on the roads leading to White 
Marsh. Clinton concerted a plan to entrap the young French 
nobleman. Five thousand men were sent out at night, under 
Gen. Grant, to make a circuitous march by White Marsh, and get 
in the rear of the Americans ; another force under Gen. Grey was 
to cross to the west side of the Schuylkill, and take post below 
Barren Hill, while Sir Henry in person was to lead a third division 
along the Philadelphia road. Early in the morning red coats Avere 
doscried in the woods near White Marsh. Lafayette sent out an 
officer to reconnoitre. The latter soon came spurring back at full 
speed. A column of the enemy had pushed forward on the road 
from White Marsh, were within a mile of the camp, and had 
possession of the road to Valley Forge. Another column was 



i;78.j BRITISH COMMISSIONERS ARRIVE. 389 

advancing on the Philadelphia road. Lafayette saw his danger, 
but maintained his presence of mind. Throwing out small parties 
of troops to show themselves at various points of the intervening 
wood, as if an attack on Grant was meditated, he brought that 
general to a halt, to prepare for action, while he with his main 
body pushed forward for Matson's Ford on the Schuylkill. The 
stratagem of the youthful warrior succeeded. He completely 
gained the march upon Gen. Grant, reached Matson's Ford in 
safety, and took a strong position on high grounds which com- 
manded it. The enemy arrived at the river just in time for a 
skirmish as the artillery was crossing. Seeing that Lafayette had 
extricated himself from their hands, and was so strongly posted, 
they gave over all attack, and returned somewhat disconcerted to 
Philadelphia. — The exchange of Gen. Lee for Gen. Prescott, so 
long delayed by various impediments, had recently been effected; 
and Lee was reinstated in his position of second in command. 
Col. Ethan Allen, also, had been released from his long captivity, 
in exchange for Col. Campbell. Allen paid a visit to the camp at 
Valley Forge, where he had much to tell of his various vicissitudes 
and hardships. Washington, in a letter to the President of Con- 
gress suggesting that something should be done for Allen, observes: 
" His fortitude and firmness seem to have placed him out of the 
reach of misfortune. There is an original something about hinl 
that commands admiration, and his long captivity and sufferings 
have only served to increase, if possible, his enthusiastic zeal. He 
appears very desirous of rendering his services to the States, and 
of being employed ; and at the same time, he does not discover 
any ambition for high rank." In a few days, a brevet commission 
of colonel arrived for Allen ; but he had already left camp for 
his home in Vermont, where he appears to have hung up his sword ; 
for we meet with no further achievements by him on record. 

Indications continued to increase of the departure of troops 
from Philadelphia. The military quarters were in a stir and 
bustle; effects were packed up; many sold at auction; baggage 
and heavy cannon embarked ; transports fitted up for the reception 
of horses, and hay taken on board. A war between France and 
England appeared to be impending : in that event, Philadelphia 
would be an ineligible position for the British army. For three 
weeks affairs remained in this state. Washington held his army 
ready to march towards the Hudson at a moment's warning ; and 
sent Gen. Maxwell with a brigade of Jersey troops, to cooperate 
with Major-general Dickinson and the militia of that State, in 
breaking down the bridges and harassing the enemy, should they 
actually attempt to march through it. In the meantime, the com- 
missioners empowered under the new Conciliatory Bills to negotiate 
the restoration of peace between Great Britain and her former 
colonies, arrived in the Delaware in the Trident ship-of-war. These 
were Frederick Howard, Earl of Carhsle ; Wilham Eden (after- 
wards Lord Aukland), brother of the last colonial governor of 
Maryland ; and George Johnstone, sometimes called commodore, 
from having served in the navy, but more commonly known as 



390 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Gov. Johnstone, having held that office in Florida. Ke was now a 
member of Parliament, and in the opposition. Their secretary was 
the celebrated Dr. Adam Ferguson, an Edinburgh professor, 
author of a Roman History, and who in his younger days (he was 
now about fifty-five years of age) had been a " fighting cnaplain 
at Fontenoy." The commissioners landed at Philadelphia on the 
6th of June, and discovered, to their astonishment, that they had 
come out, as it were, in the dark, on a mission in which but a half 
confidence had been reposed in them by government. Three 
weeks before their departure from England, orders had been sent 
out to Sir Henry Chnton to evacuate Philadelphia and concentrate 
his forces at New York ; yet these orders were never imparted to 
them. On the 9th June, Chnton informed Washington of the 
arrival of the commissioners, and requested a passport for their 
secretary. Dr. Ferguson, to proceed to Yorktown bearing a letter 
to Congress. Washington sent to Congress a copy of Sir Henry's 
letter, but did not consider himself at liberty to grant the passport 
until authorized by them. The commissioners forwarded their 
letter, accompanied by the " Conciliatory Acts" and other docu- 
ments. They were received by Congress on the 13th. The letter 
of the commissioners was addressed "to his Excellency, Henry 
Laurens, the President and others, the members of Congress." 
The reading of the letter was interrupted ; and it came near being 
indignantly rejected, on account of expressions disrespectful to 
France ; charging it with being tlie insidious enemy of both 
England and her colonies, and interposing its pretended friendship 
to the latter " only to prevent reconciliation and prolong this 
destructive war." In their reply, signed by the president (June 
17th), they observed, that nothing but an earnest desire to spare 
further effusion of blood, could have induced them to read a 
paper containing expressions so disrespectful to his most Christian 
Majesty, or to consider propositions so derogatory to the honor of 
an independent nation ; and in conclusion, they expressed a readi- 
ness to treat as soon as the King of Great Britain should demon- 
strate a sincere disposition for peace, either by an explicit acknowl- 
edgment of the independence of the States, or by the withdrawal 
of his fleets and armies. An intimation was conveyed from John- 
stone to Gen. Joseph Reed, at this time an influential member of 
Congress, that eftectual services on his part to restore the union of 
the two countries might be rewarded by ten thousand pounds sterl- 
ing, and any office in the colonies in His Majesty's gift. To this, 
Reed made his brief and memorable reply : " I am not worth" 
purchasing ; but such as I am, the King of Great Britain is not 
rich enough to do it." A letter was also written by Johnstone to 
Robert Morris, the celebrated financier, then also a member of 
Congress, containing the following significant paragraph: "I 
believe the men who have conducted the affairs of America incapa- 
ble of being influenced by improper motives ; but in all such trans- 
actions there is risk ; and I think that whoever ventures, should 
be assured, at the same time, that honor and emolument should 
naturally follow the fortune of those who have steered the vessel 



1/78.] THE BRITISH QUIT PHILADELPHIA. 391 

in the stonn and brought her safely into port. I think Washington 
and the President have a right to every favor that grateful nations 
can bestow, if they could once more unite our interest, and spare 
the miseries and devastation of vi-ar." These transactions and 
letters being communicated to Congress, were pronounced by them 
a daring and atrocious attempt to corrupt their integrity, and tiiey 
resolved that it was incompatible with their honor to hold any 
correspondence or intercourse with the commissioner who made it ; 
especially to negotiate with him upon affairs in which the cause of 
liberty was concerned. 

The commissioners, disappointed in their hopes of influencing 
Congress, published a manifesto recapitulating their official pro- 
ceedings ; stating the refusal of Congress to treat with them, and 
offering to treat within forty days with deputies from all or any of 
the colonies or provincial Assemblies; holding forth, at the same 
time, the usual offers of conditional amnesty. This measure, like 
all which had preceded it, proved ineffectual ; the commissioners 
embarked for England, and so terminated this tardy and blunder- 
ing attempt of the British Government and its agents to effect a 
reconciliation — the last attempt that was made. Lord Carlisle, 
who had taken the least prominent part in these transactions, thus 
writes in the course of them to his friend, the witty George Selwyn, 
and his letter may serve as a peroration : " Everything is upon a 
great scale on this continent. Tlie rivers are immense ; the cli- 
mate violent in heat and cold ; the prospects magnificent ; the 
thunder and lightning tremendous. We have nothing on a great 
scale with us but our blunders, our misconduct, our ruin, our 
losses, our disgraces and misfortunes." 

The enemy's force in the city had been much reduced. Five 
thousand men had been detached to aid in a sudden descent on 
>the French possessions in the West Indies ; three thousand more 
to Florida. Most of the cavalry with other troops had been 
shipped with the provision train and heavy baggage to New York. 
The effective force remaining with Sir Henry was now about nine 
or ten thousand men ; that under Washington was a little more 
than twelve thousand Continentals, and about thirteen hundred 
militia. It had already acquired considerable proficiency in 
tactics and field manoeuvring under the diUgent instructions of 
Steuben.. 

Sir Henry had taken his measures with great secrecy and 
despatch. The army commenced moving at three o'clock on the 
morning of the i8th, retiring to a point of land below the town 
formed by the confluence of the Delaware and Schuylkill, and 
crossing the former river in boats. By ten o'clock in the morning 
the rearguard landed on the Jersey shore. On the first intelligence 
of this movement, Washington detached Gen. Maxwell with his 
brigade, to cooperate with Gen. Dickinson and the New Jersey 
militia in harassing the enemy on their march. He sent Gen. 
Arnold, also, with a force to take command of Philadelphia, that 
officer being not yet sufficiently recovered from his wound for 
field service ; then breaking up his camp at Valley Forge, he 



392 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

pushed forward with his main force in pursuit of the enemy. As 
the route of the latter lay along the eastern bank of the Delaware 
as high as Trenton, Washington was obliged to make a considera- 
ble circuit, so as to cross the river higher up at Coryell's Ferry, 
near the place where, eighteen months previously, he had crossed 
to attack the Hessians. Heavy rains and sultry summer heat 
retarded his movements ; but the army crossed on the 24th. The 
British were now at Moorestown and l^Iount Holly. Thence they 
might take the road on the left for Brunswick, and so on to Staten 
Island and New York ; or the road to the right through Monmouth, 
by the Heights of Middletown to Sandy Hook. Uncertain which 
they might adopt, Washington detached Col. Morgan with six 
hundred picked men to reinforce Maxwell, and hang on their rear; 
while he himself pushed forward with the main body towards 
Princeton, cautiously keeping along the mountainous country to 
the left of the most northern road. The march of Sir Henry was 
very slow. His army was encumbered with baggage and provi- 
sions. His train of wheel carriages and bat horses was twelve 
miles in extent. He was retarded by heavy rain and intolerable 
heat ; bridges had to be built and causeways constructed over 
streams and marshes, where they had been destroyed by the 
Americans. From his dilatory movements, Washington suspected 
Chnton of a design to draw him down into the level country, and 
then, by a rapid movement on his right, to gain possession of the 
strong ground above him, and bring him to a general action on 
disadvantageous tcnns. He himself was inclined for a general 
action whenever it could be made on suitable ground : he halted, 
therefore, at Hopewell, about five miles from Princeton, and held a 
council of war while his troops were reposing and refreshing them- 
selves. Sir Henry Clinton turned to the right by a road leading 
through Freehold to Navesink and Sandy Hook ; to embark at 
the latter place. Washington detached Wayne with one thousand 
men to join the advanced corps, which, thus augmented, was 
upwards of four thousand strong. The command of the advance 
was eagerly solicited by Lafayette, as an attack by it was intended, 
and Lee was strenuously opposed to everything of the kind. 
Washington willingly gave his consent, provided Gen. Lee were 
satisfied with the arrangement. The latter ceded the command 
without hesitation, observing to the marquis that he was well 
pleased to be freed from all responsibility in executing plans which 
he was sure would fail, Lafayette set out on the 25th to form a 
junction as soon as possible with the force under Gen. Scott ; 
while Washington, leaving his baggage at Kingston, moved with 
the main body to Cranberry, three miles in the rear of the 
advanced corps, to be ready to support it. Scarce, however, had 
Lee relinquished the command, when he changed his mind. In a 
notfe to Washington, he declared that, in assenting to the arrange- 
ment, he had considered the command of the detachment, one 
more fitting a young volunteering general than a veteran like him- 
self, second in command in the army. He now viewed it in a 
different light. Clinton, finding himself harassed by light troop** 



1 778. ] BA TTLE OF MONMO UTH. 393 

on the flanks, and in danger of an attack in the retfr, placed all 
his baggage in front under the convoy of Knyphausen, while he 
threw the main strength of his army in the rear under Cornwallis. 
This made it necessary for Washington to strengthen his advanced 
corps; and he took this occasion to detach Lee, with Scott's and 
Varnum's brigades, to support the force under Lafayette. As Lee 
was the senior major-general, this gave him the command of the 
whole advance. Washington explained the matter in a letter to 
the marquis, who resigned the command to Lee when the latt'^r 
joined him on the 27th. That evening the enemy encamped on 
high ground near Monmouth Court House. Lee encamped with 
the advance at Enghshtown, about five miles distant. The main 
body was three miles in his rear. About sunset, Washington rode 
forward to the advance, and axiously reconnoitred Sir Henry's 
position. It was protected by woods and morasses, and too strong 
to be attacked with a prospect of success. Should the enemy, 
however, proceed ten or twelve miles further unmolested, they 
would gain the heights of Middletown, and be on ground still 
more difficult. To prevent this, he resolved that an attack should 
be made on their rear early in the morning, as soon as their front 
should be in motion. This plan he communicated to Gen. Lee, 
ordering him to make dispositions for the attack, keeping his troops 
lying on their arms, ready for action on the shortest notice ; a 
disposition he intended to observe with his own troops. He sent 
orders to Lee before midnight, to detach six or seven hundred men 
to lie near the enemy, watch and give notice of their movements, 
and hold them in check when on the march, until the rest of the 
troops could come up. Gen. Dickinson was charged by Lee with 
^this duty. Morgan was likewise stationed with his corps to be 
ready for skirmishing. Knyphausen, with the British vanguard, 
had begun about daybreak to descend into the valley between 
Monmouth Court House and Middletown. To give the long train 
of wagons and pack horses time to get well on the way, Clinton 
with his choice troops remained in camp on the heights of Free- 
hold, until eight o'clock, when he likewise resumed the line of 
march towards Middletown. Lee had advanced with the brigades 
of Wayne and Maxwell, to support the light troops engaged in skirm- 
ishing. The difficulty of reconnoitring a country cut up by woods 
and morasses, and the perplexity occasioned by contradictory 
reports, embarrassed his movements. Being joined by Lafayette 
with the main body of the advance, he had now about four thou- 
sand men at his command, independent of those under Morgan 
and Dickinson. Arriving on the heights of Freehold, and riding 
forward with Gen. Wayne to an open place to reconnoitre, Lee 
caught sight of a force under march, but partly hidden from view 
by intervening woods. Supposing it to be a mere covering party 
of /about two thousand men, he detached Wayne with seven 
hundred men and two pieces of artillery, to skinnish in its rear 
and hold it in check ; while he, with the rest of his force, taking 
a shorter road through the woods, would get in front of it, and cut 
it off from the rriain body. Washington in the mean time was on 



394 LIF^ OF WASHINGTON. 

his march with the main body, to support the advance, as he had 
promised. The booming of cannon at a distance indicated that 
the attack so much desired had commenced, and caused him to 
quicken his march. Arrived near Freehold church, where the 
road forked, he detached Greene with part of his forces to the 
right, to flank the enemy in the rear of Monmouth Court House, 
while he, with the rest of the column, would press forward by the 
other road. 

He had alighted while giving these directions, and was standing 
with his arm thrown over his horse, when a countryman rode up 
and said the Continental troops were retreating. Washington was 
provoked at what he considered a false alarm. Springing on his 
horse, he had moved forward but a short distance when he met 
several fugitives, one in the garb of a soldier, who all concurred 
in the report. He now sent forward Colonels Fitzgerald and 
Harrison, to learn the truth, while he himself spurred past Free- 
hold meeting house. Between that edifice and the moraj^s beyond 
it, he met Grayson's and Patton's regiments in most disorderly 
retreat, jaded with heat and fatigue. Riding up to the officer at 
their head, Washington demanded whether the whole advanced 
corps were retreating. The officer believed they were. It seemed 
incredible. There had been scarce any firing — Washington had 
received no notice of the retreat from Lee. He was still almost 
inclined to doubt, when the heads of several columns of the 
advance began to appear. It was too evident — the whole advance 
■was falling back on the main body, and no notice had been given 
to him. One of the first officers that came up was Col. Shreve, 
at the head of his regiment; W^ashington, greatly surprised and 
alarmed, asked the meaning of this retreat. The colonel smiled 
significantly — he did not know — he had retreated by order. There 
had been no fighting excepting a slight skirmish with the enemy's 
cavalry, which had been repulsed. A suspicion flashed across 
Washington's mind, of wrong-headed conduct on the part of Lee, 
to mar the plan of attack adopted contrary to his counsels. Order- 
ing Col. Shreve to march his men over the morass, halt them on 
the hill beyond and refresh them, he galloped forward to stop the 
retreat of the rest of the advance, his indignation kindling as he 
rode. At the rear of the regiment he met Major Howard; he, too, 
could give no reason for the retreat, but seemed provoked at it — 
declaring that he had never seen the like. Another officer 
exclaimed with an oath that they were flying from a shadow. 
Arriving at a rising ground, Washington beheld Lee approaching 
with the residue of his command in full retreat. By this time he 
was thoroughly exasperated. " What is the meaning of all this, 
sir ? " demanded he, in the sternest and even fiercest tone, as Lee 
rode up to him. Lee for a moment was disconcerted, and hesitated 
in making a reply, for Washington's aspect, according to Lafayette, 
was terrible. " I desire to know the meaning of this disorder and 
confusion," was again demanded still more vehemently. Lee, 
stung by the manner more than the words of the demand, made 
an angry reply, and provoked still sharper expressions, which have 



17/8.] WASHINGTON REBUKES LEE, 395 

been variously reported. He attempted a hurried explanation. 
His troops had been thrown into confusion by contradictory intelli- 
gence; by disobedience of orders; by the meddling and blunder- 
ing of individuals; and he had not felt disposed, he said, to beard 
the whole British army with troops in such a situation. "I have 
certain information," rejoined Washington, " that rt was merely a 
strong covering party." " That may be, but it was stronger than 
mine, and I did not think proper to run such a risk." " I am very 
sorry," replied Washington, "that you undertook the command, 
unless you meant to fight the enemy." " I did not think it prudent 
to bring on a general engagment." "Whatever your opinion 
may have been, ' replied Washington, disdainfully, " I expected 
my orders would have been obeyed." 

This all passed rapidly, and, as it were, in flashes, for there was 
no time for parley. The enemy were within a quarter of an 
hour's march. Washington's appearance had stopped the retreat. 
The fortunes of the day were to be retrieved, if possible, by instant 
arrangements. These he proceeded to make with great celerity. 
The place was favorable for a stand; it was a rising ground, to 
which the enemy could approach only over a narrow causeway. 
The rallied troops were hastily formed upon this eminence. Col. 
Stewart and Ramsay, with two batteries, were stationed in a covert 
of woods on their left, to protect them and keep the enemy at bay. 
Col. Oswald was posted for the same purpose on a height, with 
two field-pieces. The promptness with which everything was done 
showed the effects of the Baron Steuben's disciphne. In the 
interim, Lee, being asked about the disposition of some of tne 
troops, replied that he could give no orders in the matter; as he 
supposed General Washington intended he should have no further 
command. Shortly after this, Washington, having made all his 
arrangements with great dispatch but admirable clearness and 
precision, rode back to Lee in calmer mood, and inquired, "Wilf 
you retain the command on this height or not ? if you will, I will 
return to the main body, and have it formed on the next height." 
" It is equal to me where I command," replied Lee. " I expect 
you will take proper means for checking the enemy," rejoined 
Washington. " Your orders shall be obeyed ; and I shall not be 
the first to leave the ground," was the reply. 

A warm cannonade by Oswald, Stewart, and Ramsey, had the 
desired effect. The enemy were brought to a stand, and Washing- 
ton had time to gallop back and bring on the main body. This he 
formed on an eminence, with a wood in the rear and the morass in 
front. The left wing was commanded by Lord Stirling, who had 
with him a detachment of artillery and several field-pieces. Gen. 
Greene was on his right. Lee had maintained his advance position 
with great spirit, but was at length obliged to retire. He brought 
off his troops in good order across a causeway which traversed the 
morass in front of Lord Stirling. As he had promised, he was the 
last to leave the ground. Having formed his men in a line, beyond 
the morass, he rode up to Washington. '• Here, sir, are my 
troops," said he; "how is it your pleasure I should dispose of 



396 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

them ?" Washington saw that the poor fellows were exhausted by 
marching, counter-marching, hard fighting and the intolerable 
heat of the weather : he ordered Lee, therefore, to repair with 
them to the rear of Englishtown, and assemble there all the scat- 
tered fugitives he might meet with. 

The batteries under the direction of Lord Stirling opened a brisk 
and well-sustained fire upon the enemy ; who, finding themselves 
warmly opposed in front, attempted to turn the left flank of the 
Americans, but were driven back by detached parties of infantry 
stationed there. They then attempted the right ; but here were 
met by Gen. Greene, who had planted his artillery under Knox, on 
a commanding ground, and not only checked them but enfiladed 
tlwse who were in front of the left wing. Wayne too, with an ad- 
vanced party posted in an orchard, and partly sheltered by a barn, 
kept up a severe and well-directed fire upon the enemy's center. 
Repeated attempts were made to dislodge him, but in vain. Col. 
Monckton of the royal grenadiers, who had distinguished himself 
and been wounded in the battle of Long Island, now undertook to 
drive Wayne from his post at the point of the bayonet. Having 
made a brief harangue to his men, he led them on in column. 
V/ayne*s men reserved their fire until Monckton, waving his sword, 
called out to his grenadiers to charge. At that instant a sheeted 
volley laid him low, and made great slaughter in his column, 
which was again repulsed. The enemy fell back to the ground 
which Lee had occupied in the morning. Here their flanks were 
secured by woods and morasses, and their front could only be 
approached across a narrow causeway. Notwithstanding the diffi- 
culties of the position, Washington prepared to attack it ; ordering 
Gen. Poor with his own and the Carolina brigade, to move round 
upon their right, and Gen. Woodford on their left; while the artil- 
lery should gall them in front. Before these orders could be car- 
ried into effect the day was at an end. Many of the soldiers had 
sunk upon the ground, overcome by fatigue and the heat of the 
weather ; all needed repose. The troops, therefore, which had 
been in the advance, were ordered to lie en their arms on the 
ground they occupied, so as to be ready to make the attack by 
daybreak. The main army did the same, on the field of action, to 
be at hand to support them. Washington lay on his cloak at the 
foot of a tree, with Lafayette beside him, talking over the strange 
conduct of Lee ; whose disorderly retreat had come so near being 
fatal to the army. It was indeed a matter of general perplexity, 
to which the wayward character of Lee greatly contributed. 
Some who recollected his previous opposition to all plans of 
attack, almost suspected him of wilfully aiming to procure a 
defeat. It would appear, however, that he had been really sur- 
prised and thrown into confusion by a move of Gen. Clinton, who, 
seeing the force under Lee descending on his rear from Free- 
hold heights, had suddenly turned upon it, aided by troops from 
Knyphausen's division, to oblige it to call to its assistance the 
flanking parties under Morgan and Dickinson, which were 
threatening his baggage train. So that Lee, instead of a mere 



1778.] THE BRITISH DECAMP. 397 

covering party which he had expected to cut off, had found him- 
self front to front with the whole rear division of the British army; 
and that too, on unfavorable ground, with a deep ravine and a 
morass in his rear. He endeavored to form his troops for action. 
Oswald's artillery began to play, and there was some skirmish- 
ing with the enemy's light-horse, in which they were repulsed. 
But mistakes occurred ; orders were misunderstood ; one corps 
after another fell back, until the whole retreated, almost without 
a struggle, before an inferior force. Lee, himself, seemed to 
partake of the confusion ; taking no pains to check the retro- 
grade movement, nor to send notice of it to the main body upon 
which they were falUng back. 

At daybreak the drums beat the reveille. The troops roused 
themselves from their heavy sleep, and prepared for action. To 
their surprise, the enemy had disappeared : there was a deserted 
camp, in which were found four officers and about forty privates, 
too severely wounded to be conveyed away by the retreating army. 
Clinton had allowed his weary troops but short repose on the pre- 
ceding night. At ten o'clock, when the American forces were 
buried in their first sleep, he had set forward to join the division 
under Knyphausen, which, with the baggage train, having pushed 
on during the action, was far on the road to Middletown. So 
silent had been his retreat, that it was unheard by Gen. Poor's 
advance party, which lay near by. The distance to which the 
enemy must by this time have attained, the extreme heat of the 
weather, and the condition of the troops, deterred Washington 
from continuing a pursuit through a country where the roads were 
deep and sandy, and there was a great scarcity of water. Detach- 
ing Gen. Maxwell's brigade and Morgan's rifle corps, therefore, to 
hang on the rear of the enemy, prevent depredation and encour- 
age desertions, he determined to shape his course with his main 
body by Brunswick towards the Hudson, lest Sir Henry should 
have any design upon the post there. The American loss in the 
recent battle was eight officers and sixty-one privates killed, and 
about one hundred and sixty wounded. Among the slain were 
Lieutenant-colonel Bonner of Pennsylvania, and Major Dickinson 
of Virginia, both greatly regretted. The officers who had charge 
of the burying parties reported that they found two hundred and 
forty-five non-commissioned officers and privates, and four officers, 
left dead by the enemy on the field of battle. There were fresh 
graves in the vicinity also, into which the enemy had hurried their 
slain before retreating. The number of prisoners, including those 
found wounded, was upwards of one hundred. Some of the 
troops on both sides had perished in the morass, some were found 
on the border of a stream which ran through it among alder 
bushes, whither, overcome by heat, fatigue and thirst, they had 
crawled to drink and die. Col. Monckton, who fell so bravely 
when leading on his grenadiers, was interred in the burial-ground 
of the Freehold meeting-house, upon a stone of which edifice his 
name is rudely cut. 

Washington's march lay through a country destitute of water, 



398 LIFE OF WASHING TON. 

with deep, sandy roads wearying to the feet, and reflecting the 
intolerable heat and glare of a July sun. Many of the troops, 
harassed by previous fatigue, gave out by the way. He encamped 
near Brunswick on open, airy grounds, and gave them time to 
repose ; while Lieut. -Col. Aaron Burr, at that time a young and 
enterprising officer, was sent on a reconnoitring expedition, to learn 
the movements and intentions of the enemy. Sir Henry Clinton 
with the royal army had arrived at the Highlands of Navesink, in 
the neighborhood of Sandy Hook, on the 30th of June. He had 
lost many men by desertion, Hessians especially, during his march 
through the Jerseys, which, with his losses by killed, wounded and 
captured, had diminished his army more than two thousand men. 
The storms of the preceding winter had cut off the peninsula of 
Sandy Hook from the main land, and formed a deep channel 
between them. Fortunately, the squadron of Lord Howe had 
arrived the day before, and was at anchor Avithin the Hook. A 
bridge was immediately made across the channel with the boats of 
the ships, over which the army passed to the Hook on the 5th of 
July, and thence was distributed. It was now encamped in three 
divisions on Staten Island, Long Island, and the island of New 
York : apparently without any immediate design of offensive oper- 
ations. There was a vigorous press in New York to man the large 
ships and fit them for sea, but this was in consequence of a report 
that a F'rench fleet had* arrived on the coast. Relieved by this 
intelligence from all apprehensions of an expedition by the enemy 
up the Hudson, Washington relaxed the speed of his movements, 
and halted for a few days at Paramus, sparing his troops as much 
as possible during the extreme summer heats. 

Lee wrote two more notes, and closed with an entreaty, "that 
you will immediately exhibit your charge, and that on the first 
halt I may be brought to a trial." Washington replied: " I have 
sent Col. Scammel and the adjutant-general, to put you under 
arrrest, who wi»!l deliver you a copy of the charges on which you 
will be tried." The following were the charges: ist. Disobedi- 
ence of orders, in not attacking the enemy on the 28th of June, 
agreeably to repeated instructions. 2d. Misbehavior before the 
enemy on the same day, by making an unnecessary, disorderly, 
and shameful retreat. 3d. Disrespect to the commander-in-chief 
in two letters, dated the 1st of July, and the 28th of June. — A 
court-martial was accordingly formed on the 4th of July, at 
Brunswick, the first halting place. It was composed of one 
major-general, four brigadiers, and eight colonels, with Lord Stir- 
ling as president. It moved with the army, and convened subse- 
quently at Paramus, Peekskill, and Northcastle, the trial lasting 
until the 12th of August. From the time it commenced, Wash- 
ington never mentioned Lee's name when he could avoid it, and 
when he could not, he mentioned it without the smallest degree of 
acrimony or disrespect. Lee, on the contrary, indulged his natural 
irritabihty of temper and sharpness of tongue. When put on his 
guard against any intemperate railings against Washington, as cal- 
culated to injure his cause, he spurned at the advice, " No 



1778.] LEE SUSPENDED AND RETIRES. 399 

attack, it seems, can be made on General Washington but it must 
recoil on the assailant. I never entertained the most distant wish 
or intention of attacking General Washington. I have ever hon- 
ored and respected him as a man and a citizen." 

In the repeated sessions of the court-martial and the long exam- 
inations which took place, many of the unfavorable impressions 
first received, concerning the conduct and motives of Lee, were 
softened. He defended himself with abiUty, and contended that 
after the troops had commenced to fall back, in consequence of a 
retrograde movements of Gen. Scott, he had intended to form them 
on the first advantageous ground he could find, and that none such 
presented itself until he reached the place where he met General 
Washington; on which very place he had intended to make 
battle. This retreat, said he, "though necessary, was brought 
about contrary to my orders, contrary to my intention ; and, if any- 
thing can deduct from my credit, it is, that I did not ^^^/^r a retreat 
which was so necessary." Judge Mai-shall observed of the variety 
of reasons given by Lee in justification of his retreat, "if they do 
not absolutely establish its propriety, they give it so questionable a 
form, as to render it probable that a public examination never 
would have taken place, could his proud spirit have stooped to offer 
explanation instead of outrage to the commander-in-chief." The re- 
sult of the prolonged and tedious investigation was, that he was found 
guilty of all the charges exhibited against him; the second charge, 
however, was softened by omitting the word shanuful, and con- 
victing him of making an " unnecessary, and in some instances a 
disorderly retreat." He was sentenced to be suspended from all 
command for one year : the sentence to be approved or set aside 
by Congress, He was not connected with subsequent events of the 
Revolution, Congress were more than three months in coming to 
a decision on the proceedings of the court-martial. As the House 
always sat with closed doors, the debates on the subject are un- 
known, but are said to have been warm. At length, on the 5th of 
Dec. the sentence was approved in a very thin session of Congress, 
fifteen members voting in the affirmative and seven in the negative. 
From that time Lee was unmeasured in his abuse of W^ashington, 
and his reprobation of the court-martial, which he termed a *' court 
of inquisition." His aggressive tongue at length involved him in a 
quarrel with Col. Laurens, one of Washington's aides, a high-spirited 
young gentleman, who felt himself bound to vindicate the honor of 
his chief. A duel took place, and Lee was wounded in the side. 
Towards spring he retired to his estate in Berkley County in 
Virginia, " to learn to hoe tobacco, which," observes he with a sar- 
castic innuendo at Washington, " is the best school to form a con- 
summate General. This is a discovery I have lately made." He 
led a kind of hermit life on his estate : dogs and horses were his 
favorite companions. His house is described as being a mere shell, 
destitute of comforts and conveniences. For want of partitions the 
different parts were designated by lines chalked on the floor. In 
one corner was his bed ; in another were his books : his saddles 
and harness in a third ; a fourth served as a kitchen. " Sir," said 



40O LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

he to a visitor, "it is the most convenient and economical establish- 
ment in the world. The lines of chalk which you see on the floor, 
mark the division of the apartments, and I can sit in any corner and 
overlook the whole without moving from my chair." The term of 
his suspension had expired, when a rumor reached him that Con- 
gress intended to take away his commission. In his hurry and 
heat, he scrawled the following note to the Rresident of Congress ; 
"Sir, I understand that it is in contemplation of Congress, on the 
principle of economy, to strike me out of their service. Congress 
must know very little of me, if they suppose that I would accept of 
their money, since the confirmation of the wicked and infamous 
sentence which was passed upon me." This insolent note occas- 
ioned his prompt dismissal from the service. He did not complain 
of it ; but in a subsequent and respectful letter to the president, 
said, " I must entreat, in the acknowledging of the impropriety and 
indecorum of my conduct in this affair, it may not be supposed that 
I mean to court a restoration to the rank I held ; so far from it, that 
I do assure you, had not the incident fallen out, I should have 
requested Congress to accept my resignation." Though bitter in 
his enmities, Lee had his friendships, and was warm and constant 
in them as far as his capricious humors would allow. He was not a 
man for the sweet solitude of the country. He became weary of 
his Virginia estate ; though in one of the most fertile regions of the 
Shenandoah Valley. His farm was mismanaged; his agents were 
imfaithful ; he entered into negotiations to dispose of his property, 
in the course of which he visited Philadelphia. On arriving there, 
he was taken with chills, followed by a fever, which went on in- 
creasing in violence, and terminated fatally. A soldier even unto 
the end, warlike scenes mingled with the delirium of his malady. 
In his dying moments he fancied himself on the field of battle. 
The last words he was heard to utter were, "Stand by me, my 
brave grenadiers ! " He left a will and testament strongly marked 
by his peculiarities. There are bequests to intimates of horses, 
weapons, and sums to purchase rings of affection ; ample and gen- 
erous provisions for domestics, one of whom he styles his " old and 
faithful servant, or rather, humble friend." All his residuary prop- 
erty to go to his sister Sidney Lee and her heirs. Eccentric to the 
last, one clause of his will regards his sepulture: "I desire most 
earnestly that I may not be buried in any church or churchyard, 
or within a mile of any Presbyterian or Anabaptist meeting-house ; 
for, since I have resided in this country, I have kept so much bad 
company while living, that I do not choose to continue it when 
dead." This part of his will was not complied with. He was 
buried with military honors in the cemetery of Christ church. The 
magnanimity exhibited by Washington in regard to Lee while living, 
continued after his death. He never spoke of him with asperity, 
but did justice to liis merits, acknowledging that "he possessed 
many great qualities." 

While encamped at Paramus, Washington, in the night of the 
13th of July, received a letter from Congress informing him of th^ 
arrival of a French fleet on the coast ; instructing him to concert 



1778.] OUR FRENCH ALLIES. 401 

measures with the commander, the Count D'Estaing, for offen- 
sive operations by sea and land, and empowering him to call on the 
States from New Hampshire to New Jersey inclusive, to aid with 
their militia. The fleet in question was composed of twelve ships 
of the hne and six frigates, with a land force of four thousand men. 
On board of it came Mons. Gerard, minister from P>ance to the 
United States, and the Hon. Silas Deane, one of the American 
ministers who had effected the late treaty of alliance. The fleet 
had sailed from Toulon on the 13th of April. After struggling 
against adverse winds it had made its appearance off the northern 
extremity of the Virginia coast, and anchored at the mouth of the 
Delaware, on the eighth of July. Thence the count despatched a 
letter to Washington, dated at sea. •' I have the honor of impart- 
ing to your Excellency," writes he, "the arrival of the king's fleet, 
charged by his majesty with the glorious task of giving his allies, 
the United States of America, the most striking proofs of his affec- 
tion. Nothing will be wanting to my happiness, if I can succeed 
in it. It is augmented by the consideration of concerting my 
operations with a General such as your Excellency. The talents 
and great actions of Gen. Washington have insured him, in the eyes 
of all Europe, the title truly sublime of Deliverer of Amer- 
ica." The count was unfortunate in the length of his voyage. Had 
he arrived in ordinary time, he might have entrapped Lord Howe's 
squadron in the river : cooperated with Washington in investing the 
British anny by sea and land, and by cutting off its retreat to New 
York, compelled it to surrender. Finding the enemy had 
'evacuated both city and river, the count sent up the French minis- 
ter and Mr. Deane to Philadelphia in a frigate, and then putting 
to sea, continued along the coast. When he arrived with his fleet 
in the road outside of Sandy Hook, he descried the British ships 
quietly anchored inside of it. 

A frank and cordial correspondence took place forthwith between 
the count and Washington, and a plan of action was concerted 
between them by the intervention of confidential officers ; Washing- 
ton's aides-de-camp, Laurens and Hamilton, boarding the fleet 
while off the Hook, and Major Chouin, a French officer of merit, 
repairing to the American headquarters. Several experienced 
American pilots and masters of vessels, declared that there was not 
sufficient depth of water on the bar to admit the safe passage of the 
largest ships, one of which carried 80 and another 90 guns : the 
attempt, therefore, was reluctantly abandoned ; and the ships an- 
chored about four miles off, near Shrewsbury on the Jersey coast, 
taking in provisions and water. On the 22d of July, the fleet ap- 
peared again in full force off the bar at Sandy Hook. The British, 
who supposed they had only been waiting on the Shrewsbury coast 
for the high tides of the latter part of July, now prepared for a des- 
perate conflict ; and, indeed, had the French fleet been enabled to 
enter, it is difficult to conceive a more terrible and destructive 
struggle than would have ensued between these gallant and deadly 
rivals, with their powerful armaments brought side to side, and 
cramped up in so confined a field of action. D'Estaing, however. 



402 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

stood away to the eastward, and on the 29th arrived off Point Judith, 
coming to anchor within five miles of Newport. 

Rhode Island (proper,) the object of this expedition, is about six- 
teen miles long, running deep into the great Narraganset Bay. 
Seaconnet Channel separates it on the east from the mainland, and 
on the west the main channel passes between it and Conanicut 
Island. The town of Newport is situated near the south end of the 
island, facing the west, with Conanicut Island in front of it. It was 
protected by batteries and a small naval force. Here General Sir 
Robert Pigott, who commanded in the island, had his headquarters. 
The force under him was about six thousand strong, the greater 
part within strongly intrenched lines extending across the island, 
about three miles from the town. Gen. Greene hastened from 
Providence on hearing of the arrival of the fleet of Count D'Esta- 
ing, and went on board of it at the anchorage to concert a plan of 
operations. It was agreed that the fleet should force its way into 
the harbor at the same time that the Americans approached by land, 
and that the landing of the troops from the ships on the west side 
of the island should take place at the same time that the Ameri- 
cans should cross Seaconnet Channel, and landed on the east side 
near the north end. This combined operation was postponed until 
the loth of August, to give time for the reinforcements sent by 
Washington to arrive. The delay was fatal to the enterprise. On 
the 8th, the Count D'Estaing entered the harbor and passed up he 
main channel, exchanging a cannonade with the batteries as he 
passed, and anchored a little above the town, between Goat and 
Conanicut Islands. Gen. Sullivan, to be ready for the concerted 
attack, had moved down from Providence to the neighborhood of 
Rowlands Ferry, on the east side of Seaconnet passage. The 
British troops stationed opposite on the north end of the island, 
fearful of being cut off, evacuated their works in the night of the 
Stli, and drew into the lines at Newport. SuUivan, seeing the works 
thus abandoned, could not resist the temptation to cross the 
channel in flat-bottomed boats on the morning of the 9th, and take 
possession of them. This sudden movement, a day in advance of the 
concerted time, and without due notice given to the count, surprised 
and offended him, clashing with his notions of etiquette and punc- 
tillio. He, however, prepared to cooperate, and was ordering out 
his boats for the purpose, when, about two o'clock in the day, he 
saw a great fleet of ships standing towards Newport. It was the 
fleet of Lord Howe, who, being reinforced by four stout ships, 
part of a squadron coming out under Admiral Byron, had hastened 
to the relief of Newport, though still inferior in force to the French 
admiral. The delay of the concerted attack had enabled him to 
arrive in time. The wind set directly into the harbor. His lord- 
ship stood in near the land, communicated with Pigott, and having 
informed himself exactly of the situation of the French fleet, came 
to anchor at Point Judith, some distance from the southwest ent- 
rance of the bay. In the night the wind changed to the northeast. 
Favored by the wind the Count stood out of the harbor at eight 
o'clock in the morning to give the enemy battle where he should 



1/78.] D'ESTAING AT RHODE ISLAND, 403 

have good sea room; previously sending word to Gen. Sullivan, 
who had advanced the preceding afternoon to Quaker Hill, about 
ten miles north of Newport, that he should land his promised troops 
and marines, and cooperate with him on his return. The P'rench 
ships were severely cannonaded as they passed the batteries, but 
without material damage. Forming in order of battle, they bore 
down upon the fleet of Lord Howe, confidently anticipating a vic- 
tory from their superiority of force. The British ships slipt their 
cables at their approach, and likewise formed in line of battle. To 
gain the weathergage on the one part, and retain in on the other, 
the two fleets manoeuvred throughout the day, standing to the 
southward, and gradually disappearing from the anxious eyes of 
the belligerent forces on Rhode Island. 

The army of SulUvan, now left to itself before Newport, 
amounted to ten thousand men. Lafayette advised the delay of 
hostile operations until the return of D'Estaing, but the American 
commander, piqued and chagrined at the departure of his allies, 
determined to commence the seige immediately, without waiting 
for his tardy aid. On the twelfth, however, came on a tempest 
of wind and rain, which raged for two days and nights with 
unexampled violence. Tents were blown down ; several soldiers 
and many horses perished, and a great part of the amunition 
recently dealt out to the troops was destroyed. On the 14th, 
the weather cleared up and the sun shone brightly, but the 
army was worn down and dispirited. The day was passed in 
drying their clothes, cleaning their arms, and putting themselves 
in order for action. The next morning they took post on Hon- 
eyman's Hill, about two miles from the British lines, and began 
to construct batteries, form lines of communication, and make 
regular approaches. The British were equally active in strength- 
ening their defences. There was causal cannonading on each side, 
but nothing of consequence. The situation of the besiegers was 
growing critical, when, on the evening of the 19th, they descried 
the French fleet standing towards the harbor. It was in a shat- 
tered and forlorn condition. After sailing from before Newport, 
on the 20th, it had manoeuvred for two days with the British fleet, 
each unwilling to enter into action without having the weathergage. 
While thus pianoeuvering, the same furious storm which had raged 
on shore separated and dispersed them with fearful ravage. Lord 
Howe with such of his ships as he could collect bore away to New 
York to refit, and the French admiral was now before Newport, 
but in no plight or mood for fighting. Gen. Greene and the Mar- 
quis Lafayette repaired on board of the admiral's ship. They 
represented to the count the certainty of carrying the place in two 
days, by a combined attack; and the discouragement and reproach 
that would follow a failure on this their first attempt at coopera- 
tion; an attempt, too, for which the Americans had made such 
great and expensive preparations, and on which they had indulged 
such sanguine hopes. All the general officers, excepting Lafay- 
ette, joined in signing and sending a protest against the departure 
of the fleet for Boston, as derogatory to the honor of France, con- 



404 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

trary to the intention of his most Christian majesty and the interest 
of his nation, destructive of the welfare of the United States, and 
highly injurious to the alliance formed between the two nations. 
The count was deeply offended by the tone of the protest, and the 
manner in which it was conveyed to him. He declared that " this 
paper imposed on the commander of the king's squadron the pain- 
ful, but necessary law of profound silence." He continued his 
course to Boston. The departure of the fleet was a death blow to 
the enterprise. Between two and three thousand volunteers aban- 
doned the camp in the course of four and twenty hours; others 
continued to go off; desertions occurred among the militia, and in 
a few days the number of besiegers did not exceed that of the 
besieged. The harbors of Rhode Island being now free, and open 
to the enemy, reinforcements might pour in from New York, and 
render the withdrawal of the troops disastrous, if not impossible. 
To prepare for rapid retreat, if necessary, all the heavy artillery 
that could be spared, was sent off from the island. Gen. Sullivan 
commenced his retreat between nine and ten o'clock, on the night 
of the 28th, the army retiring by two roads ; the rear covered by 
parties of light troops, under Colonels Livingston and Laurens. 
Their retreat was not discovered until daylight, when a pursuit was 
commenced. Sullivan had taken post on Batt's Hill, the main 
body of his army being drawn up in order of battle, with strong 
works in their rear, and a redoubt in front of the right wing. The 
British now took post on an advantageous height called Quaker 
Hill, a little more than a mile from the American front. Skirmish- 
ing ensued until about ten o clock, when two British sloops-of-war 
and some small vessels having gained a favorable position, the 
enemy's troops, under cover of their fire, advanced in force to 
turn the right flank of the American army, and capture the redoubt 
which protected it. This was bravely defended by Gen. Greene : 
between two and three hundred men were killed on each side ; the 
British at length drew back to their artillery and works on Quaker 
Hill, awaiting reinforcements. Gen. Sullivan determined to aban- 
don Rhode Island. The position on Batt's Hill favored a decep- 
tion. Tents were brought forward and pitched in sight of the 
enemy, and a great part of the troops employed throughout the 
day in throwing up works, as if the post was to be resolutely 
maintained; at the same time, the heavy baggage and* stores were 
quietly conveyed away in the rear of the hill, and ferried across 
the bay. As soon as it was dark the tents were struck, fires were 
lighted at various points, the troops withdrawn, and by two o'clock 
the whole were transported across the channel to the mainland. 
The army had reason to icongratulate themselves on the course 
they had taken, and the quickness of their movements ; for the 
very next day Sir Henry Clinton arrived at Newport in a light 
squadron, with a reinforcement of four thousand men, a naval and 
land force that might effectually have cut off Sullivan's retreat, had 
he lingered on the island. Sir Henry returned to New York, but 
first detached Major-general Sir Charles Grey with the troops, on 
a ravaging expedition to the eastward ; chiefly against ports which 



1778.] MASSACRE OF WYOMING. 405 

were the haunts of privateers. He destroyed more than seventy 
vessels in Acushnet River, some of them privateers with their 
prizes, others peaceful merchant ships. New Bedford and Fair 
Haven having been made military and naval deposits, were laid 
waste, wharves demolished, rope-walks, storehouses and mills, 
with several private dwellings, wrapped in flames. Similar destruc- 
tion was effected at the Island of Martha's Vineyard, a resort of 
privateers. 

The failure of the enterprise was generally attributed to the 
departure of the French fleet from Newport. Count D'Estaing 
and the other French officers were irritated by the protests of the 
American officers. Nothing perhaps tended more to soothe the 
Count's wounded sensibilities, than a letter from Washington, 
couched in the most delicate and considerate language. " If the 
deepest regret, that the best concerted enterprise and bravest exer- 
tions should have been rendered fruitless by a disaster, which human 
prudence was incapable ot foreseeing or preventing, can alleviate 
disappointment, you may be assured that the whole continent sym- 
pathizes with you. It will be a consolation to you to reflect, that 
the thinking part of mankind do not form their judgment from 
events ; and that their equity will ever attach equal glory to those 
actions Avhich deserve success, and those who have been crowned 
with it. It is in the trying circumstances to which your excellency 
has been exposed, that the virtues of a great mind are displayed 
in their brightest lustre, and that a general's character is better 
known than in the hour of victory. It was yours, by every title 
which can give it ; and the adverse element, which robbed you of 
your prize, can never deprive you of the glory due you." 

Meantime Indian warfare, with all its atrocity, was going on in 
the interior. The British post at Niagara was its cradle. It was 
the common rallying place of tories, refugees, savage warriors, 
and other desperadoes of the frontiers. Hither Brant, the noted 
Indian chief, had retired after the repulse of St. Leger at Fort 
Schuyler, to plan further mischief; and here was concerted the 
memorable incursion into the Valley of Wyoming, a beautiful 
region lying along the Susquehanna. Peaceful as was its aspect, 
it had been the scene of sanguinary feuds prior to the Revolution, 
between the people of Pennsylvania and Connecticut, who both 
laid claim to it. Seven rural forts or block-houses, situated on 
various parts of the valley, had been strongholds during these 
territorial contests, and remained as places of refuge for women 
and children in times of Indian ravage. The expedition now- 
set on foot against it, in June, was composed of Butler's rangers, 
Johnson's royal greens, and Brant, Avith his Indian braves. Their 
united force, about eleven hundred strong, was conducted by 
Co'. John Butler, renowned in Indian warfare. Passing down 
the Chemung and Susquehanna in canoes, they landed at a 
place called Three Islands, and struck through the wilderness to 
a gap or " notch" of the mountains, by which they entered the 
Valley of Wyoming. Butler made his headquarters at one of 
the strongholds already mentioned, called Wintermoot's Fort, 



4o6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

from a toiy family of the same name. Hence he sent out his 
marauding parties to plunder and lay waste the country. Ru- 
mors of this intended invasion had reached the valley some time 
before the appearance of the enemy, and had spread great con- 
sternation. Most of the sturdy yeomanry were absent in the 
army. A company of sixty men styling themselves regulars, 
took post at one of the strongholds called P'orty Fort; where 
they were joined by about three hundred of the most efficient 
yeomanry, armed and equipped in rude rustic style. In this 
emergency old men and boys volunteered to meet the common 
danger, posting themselves in the smaller forts in which women 
and children had taken refuge. Col. Zcbulon Butler, an officer 
of the continental army, took the general command. The ma- 
rauding parties sent out by Col. John Butler and Brant were 
spreading desolation through the valley; farm houses were 
wrapped in flames; husbandmen were murdered while at work in 
the fields; all who liad not taken refuge in the fort were threat- 
ened with destruction. Leaving the women and children in Forty 
Fort, Col. Zebulon Butler with his men sallied forth on the 3rd 
of July, and made a rapid move upon Wintermoot Fort, hoping 
to come upon it by surprise. They found the enemy drawn up 
in front cf it, in a line extending from the river to a marsh; Col. 
John Butler and his rangers, with Johnson's royal greens, on the 
left; Indians and tories on the right. 

The Americans formed a line of the same extent ; the regulars 
under Col. Butler on the right flank, resting on the river, the miH- 
tia under Col. Denison on the left wing, on the marsh. A sharp 
fire was opened from right to left ; after a few volleys the enemy in 
front of Col. Butler began to give way. The Indians, however, 
throwing themselves into the marsh, turned the left flank of the 
Americans, and attacked the militia in the rear. Denison, finding 
himself exposed to a cross fire, sought to change his position, and 
gave the word to fall back. It was mistaken for an order to 
retreat. In an instant, the left wing turned and fled ; all attempts 
to rally it were in vain; the panic extended to the right wing. The 
savages, throwing down their rifles, rushed on with tomahawks 
and scalping-knife, and a horrible massacre ensued. Some of the 
Americans escaped to Forty Fort, some swam the river ; others 
broke their way across the swamp, and climbed the mountain ; 
some few were taken prisoners ; but the greater number were 
slaughtered. The desolation of the valley was now completed ; 
fields were laid waste, houses burnt, and their inhabitants mur- 
dered. Upwards of five thousand persons fled in the utmost dis- 
tress and consternation, seeking refuge in the setdements on the 
Lehigh and Delaware. It was one of the most atrocious outrages 
perpetrated throughout the war ; and, as usual, the tories con- 
cerned in it were the most vindictive and merciless of the savage 
crew. 

For a great part of the summer, Washington had remained 
encamped at White Plains, watching the movements of the enemy 
at New York. Early it September he observed a great stir of 



1778.] ATTACK ON LITTLE EGG HARBOR. 407 

pvepaiation ; cannon and military stores were embarked, and a 
fleet of one hundred and forty transports were ready to make 
sail. Washington strengthened the works and reinforced the gar- 
rison in the Highlands, stationing Putnam with two brigades in 
the neighborhood of West Point. He moved his camp to a rear 
position at Fredericksburg on the borders of Connecticut, and 
about thirty miles from West Point, so as to be ready for a move- 
ment to the eastward or a speedy junction for the defence of the Hud- 
son. Scarce had he moved from White Plains, when Clinton threw a 
detachment of five thousand men under Cornwallis into the Jer- 
seys, between the Hackensack and Hudson rivers, and another of 
three thousand under Knyphausen into Westchester county, be- 
tween the Hudson and the Bronx. These detachments, by the 
aid of flat-bottomed boats, could unite their forces in twenty-four 
hours, on either side of the Hudson. Washington considered 
these mere foraging expeditions, though on a large scale, and 
detached troops into the Jerseys to cooperate with the militia in 
checking them ; but he ordered Gen. Putnam to cross the river to 
West Point, for its immediate security : while he himself moved 
with a division of his army to Fishkill. Wayne, who was with 
the detachment in the Jerseys, took post with a body of militia 
and a regiment of light-horse in front of the division of Lord 
Cornwallis. The militia were quartered at the village of New 
Tappan ; but Lieut. Baylor, who commanded the light-horse, took 
up his quarters in Old Tappan, where his men lay very negligently 
and unguardedly in barns. Cornwallis laid a plan to cut off the 
whole detachment. Fortunately the militia were apprised by 
deserters of their danger in time to escape. Not so with Baylor's 
party. Gen. Grey, of marauding renown, having cut off a ser- 
geant's patrol, advanced in silence, and surrounded with his 
troops three barns in which the dragoons were sleeping. To pre- 
vent noise he had caused his men to draw the charges and take 
the flints from their guns, and fix their bayonets. They rushed 
forward, and deaf for a time to all cries for mercy, made a savage 
slaughter of naked and defenceless men. Eleven were killed 011 
the spot, and twenty-five mangled with repeated thrusts, some 
receiving ten, twelve, and even sixteen wounds. Among the 
wounded were Col. Baylor and Major Clough, the last of whom 
soon died. About forty were taken prisoners. 

This movement of troops, on both sides of the Hudson, was 
designed to cover an expedition against Little Egg Harbor, on the 
east coast of New Jersey, a noted rendezvous of American priva- 
teers. Three hundred regular troops, and a body of royalist vol- 
unteers from the Jerseys, headed by Capt. Patrick Ferguson, 
embarked at New York on board galleys and transports, and 
made for Little Egg Harbor under convoy of vessels of war. 
The country heard of their coming ; four privateers put to sea and 
escaped ; others took refuge up the river. The wind prevented 
the transports from entering. The troops embarked in row gal- 
leys and small craft, and pushed twenty miles up the river to the 
village of Chestnut Neck. Here were batteries without guns. 



4o8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

prize ships which had been hastily scuttled, and storehouses for 
the reception of prize goods. The batteries and storehouses were 
demolished, the prize ships burnt, saltworks destroyed and private 
dwellings sacked and laid in ashes. Among the forces detached 
by Washington into the Jerseys to check these ravages, was the 
Count Pulaski's legionary corps, composed of three companies of 
foot, and a troop of horse, officered principally by foreigners. 
The legion was cantoned about twelve miles up the river ; the 
infantry in three houses by themselves ; Count Pulaski with the 
cavalry at some distance apart. Ferguson embarked in boats 
with two hundred and fifty men, ascended the river in the night, 
landed at four in the morning, and surrounded the houses in which 
the infantry were sleeping. Fifty were butchered on the spot ; 
among whom were two of the foreign officers, the Baron de Bose 
and Lieut, la Broderic. The clattering of hoofs gave note of the 
approach of Pulaski and his horse, whereupon the British made a 
rapid retreat to their boats and pulled down the river. 

The detachment on the east side of the Hudson likewise 
made a predatory and disgraceful foray from their lines 
at ^ King's Bridge towards the American encampment at 
White Plains, plundering the inhabitants without discrimination, 
not only of their provisions and forage, but of the very clothes on. 
their backs. None were more efficient in this ravage than a 
party of about one hundred of Capt. Donop's Hessian yagers, 
and they were in full maraud between Tarr>'town and Dobb's 
Ferry, when a detachment of infantry under Col. Richard Butler, 
and of cavalry under Major Henry Lee, came upon them by sur- 
prise, killed ten of them on the spot, captured a heutenant and 
eighteen privates, and would have taken or destroyed the whole, 
had not the extreme roughness of the country impeded the action 
of the cavalry, and enabled the yagers to escape by scrambhng 
up hill-sides or plunging into ravines. The British detachments 
having accomplished the main objects of their movements, 
returned to New York ; leaving those parts of the country they 
had harassed still more determined in their hostility, having 
achieved nothing but what is the least honorable and most detest- 
able in warfare. 

A fleet of transports with five thousand men, under Gen, Grant, 
convoyed by Com. Hotham with a squadron of six ships of 
war, set sail from New York on the third of November, with the 
secret design of an attack on St. Lucia. Towards the end of the 
same month, another body of troops, under Lieut. -Col. Campbell, 
sailed for Georgia in the squadron of Commodore Hyde Parker ; 
the British cabinet having determined to carry the war into the 
Southern States. At the same time Gen. Provost, who commanded 
in Florida, was ordered by Sir Henry Clinton to march to the 
banks of the Savannah River, and attack Georgia in flank while 
the expedition under Campbell should attack it in front on the sea- 
board. The squadron of Com. Parker anchored in the Savannah 
River towards the end of December. An American force of 
about six hundred regulars and a few miUtia under Gen. Robert 



17/8-9.] WASHINGTON'S WINTER QUARTERS, 409 

Howe, were encamped near the town, being a remnant of the 
army with which that officer had invaded Florida in the preceding 
summer, but had been obliged to evacuate it by a mortal malady 
which desolated his camp. Campbell landed his troops on the 
29th of December, about three miles below the town. The whole 
country bordering the river is a deep morass, cut up by creeks, 
and only to be traversed by causeways. Gen. Howe had posted his 
little army on the main road with the river on his left and a 
morass in front. A negro gave Campbell information of a path 
leading through the morass, by which troops might get unob- 
served to the rear of the Americans. Sir James liaird was 
detached with the light infantry by this path, while Col. Camp- 
bell advanced in front. The Americans, thus suddenly attacked 
in front and rear, were completely routed ; upward of one hun- 
dred were either killed on the spot, or perished in the morass ; 
thirty-eight officers and four hundred and fifteen privates were 
taken prisoners; the rest retreated up the Savannah River and 
crossed into South Carolina. Savannah, the capital of Georgia, 
was taken possession of by the victors, with cannon, military 
stores and provisions ; their loss was only seven killed and nine- 
teen wounded. General Prevost, who commanded the British 
forces in Florida, traversed deserts to the southern frontier of 
Georgia, took Sunbury, and marched to Savannah, where he 
assumed the general command, detaching Gol. Campbell against 
Augusta. By the middle of January (1779) all Georgia was 
•reduced to submission. 

About the beginning of December, Washington distributed his 
troops for the winter in a line of strong cantonments extending 
from Long Island Sound to the Delaware. Gen. Putnam com- 
manded at Danbury, Gen. McDougall in the Highlands, while the 
head-quarters of the commander-in-chief were near Middlebrook 
in the Jerseys. He devised a plan of alarm signals, which Gen. 
Philemon Dickinson was employed to carry into effect. On Bottle 
Hill, which commanded a vast map of country, sentinels kept 
watch day and night. Should there be an irruption of the enemy, 
an eighteen pounder called the Old Sow, fired every half hour, 
gave the alarm in the day time or in dark and stormy nights ; an 
immense fire or beacon at other times. On the booming of that 
heavy gun, hghts sprang up from hill to hill along the different 
ranges of heights; the country was aroused, and the yeomanry, 
hastily armed, hurried to their gathering places. 

Much of the winter was passed by Washington in Philadelphia, 
occupied in devising and discussing plans for the campaign of 
1779. It was an anxious moment with him. Circumstances which 
inspired others with confidence, filled him with solicitude. The 
alliance with France had produced a baneful feeling of security, 
which, it appeared to him, was paralyzing the energies of the 
country. England, it was thought, would now be too much occu- 
pied in securing her position in Europe, to increase her force or 
extend her operations in America. Many, therefore, considered 
the war as virtually at an end ; and were unwilling to make tn^ 



41 o LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

sacrifices, or supply the means necessary for important military 
undertakings. Many of those whose names had been as 
watchwords at the Declaration of Independence, had with- 
drawn from the national councils ; occupied either by their indi- 
vidual affairs, or by the affairs of their individual States. 
Washington, whose comprehensive patriotism embraced the whole 
Union, deprecated and deplored the dawning of this sectional 
spirit. America, he declared, had never stood more in need of the 
wise, patriotic, and spirited exertions of her sons than at this 
period. "Our political system," observed he, "is like the 
mechanism of a clock ; it is useless to keep the smaller wheels in 
order, if the greater one, the prime mover of the whole, is 
neglected." It was his wish, therefore, that each State should 
choose its ablest men to attend Congress, instructed to investigate 
and reform public abuses. 

The participation of France in the war, and the prospect that 
Spain would soon be embroiled with England, must certainly 
divide the attention of the enemy, and allow America a breathing 
time; these and similar considerations were urged by Washington 
in favor of a defensive policy. One single exception was made 
by him. The horrible ravages and massacres perpetrated by the 
Indians and their tory allies at Wyoming, had been followed by 
similar atrocities at Cherry Valley, in the State of New York, and 
called for signal vengeance to prevent a repetition. Washington 
knew by experience that Indian warfare, to be effective, should 
never be merely defensive, but must be carried into the enemy's 
country. The Six Nations, the most civilized of the savage tribes, 
had proved themselves the most formidable. The first act was an 
expedition from Fort Schuyler by Col. Van Schaick, Lieut. -Col. 
Willclt, and Major Cochran, with about six hundred men, who, on 
the 19th of April, surprised the towns of the Onondagas; destroyed 
the whole settlement, and returned to the fort without the loss of a 
single man. The great expedition of the campaign, however, was 
in revenge of the massacre of Wyoming. Early in the summer, 
three thousand men assembled in that lately desolated region, and 
conducted by Gen. Sullivan, moved up the west branch of the 
Susquehanna into the Seneca country. While on the way, they 
were joined by a part of the western army, under Gen. James 
Clinton, who had come from the valley of the Mohawk by Otsego 
lake and the east branch of the Susquehanna. The united forces 
amounted to about five thousand men, of which Sullivan had the 
general command. The Indians, and their allies the torics, were 
much inferior in force, being about fifteen hundred Indians and 
two hundred white men, commanded by the two Butlers, Johnson, 
and Brant. A battle took place at Newtown on the 29th of 
August, in which they were easily defeated. Sulhvan then pushed 
forward into the heart of the Indian country, penetrating as far as 
the Genesee River, laying everything waste, setting fire to deserted 
dwellings, destroying cornfields, orchards, gardens, everything 
that could give sustenance to man, the design being to starve the 
Indians out of the country. The latter retreated before him with 



1 779-1 WYOMING AVENGED. 411 

their families, and at length took refuge under the protection of the 
British garrison at Niagara. Having completed his errand, Sulli- 
van returned to Easton in Pennsylvania. The thanks of Congress 
were voted to him and his army, but he shortly afterwards resigned 
his commission on account of ill health, and retired from the ser- 
vice. A similar expedition was undertaken by Col. Broadhead, 
from Pittsburg up the Alleghany, against the Mingo, Muncey, and 
Seneca tribes, with similar results. The wisdom of Washington's 
policy of carrying the war against the Indians into their country, 
and conducting it in their own way, was apparent from the general 
intimidation produced among the tribes by these expeditions, and 
the subsequent infrequency of their murderous incursions; the 
instigation of which by the British had been the most inhuman 
feature of this war. 

The situation of Sir Henry Clinton must have been mortifying in 
the extreme to an officer of lofty ambition and generous aims. 
His force, between sixteen and seventeen thousand strong, was 
superior in numbers, discipline, and equipment to that of Washing-p 
ton ; yet his instructions confined him to a predatory warfare, har- 
assing, it is true, yet irritating to the country intended to be concil- 
iated, and brutalizing to his own soldiery. Such an expedition was 
set on foot against the commerce of the Chesapeake ; by which 
commerce the armies were supplied and the credit of the govern- 
ment sustained. On the 9th of May, a squadron under Sir George 
Collier, entered these waters, took possession of Portsmouth without 
opposition, sent out armed parties against Norfolk, Suffolk, Gosport, 
Kemp's Landing, and other neighboring places, where were im- 
mense quantities of provisions, naval 2nd military stores, and 
merchandise of all kinds ; with numerous vessels, some on the 
stocks, others richly laden. Wherever they went, a scene of 
plunder, conflagration, and destruction ensued. 

Since the loss of Forts Montgomery and Clinton, the main de- 
fences of the Highlands had been established at the sudden bend 
of the river where it winds between West Point and Constitution 
Island. Two opposite forts commanded this bend, and an iron 
chain which was stretched across it. Washington had projected 
two works, also just below the Highlands, at Stony Point and 
Verplanck's Point, to serve as outworks of the mountain passes, 
and to protect King's Ferry, the most direct and convenient com- 
munication between the Northern and Middle States. A small but 
strong fort had been erected on Verplanck's Point, and was gar- 
risoned by seventy men under Capt. Armstrong. A more impor- 
tant work was in progress at Stony Point. When completed, these 
two forts, on opposite promontories, would form as it were the lower 
gates of the Highlands ; miniature Pillars of Hercules, of which 
Stony Point was the Gibraltar. To be at hand in case of any real 
attempt upon the Highlands, Washington drew up with his forces 
in that direction ; moving by the way of Morristown. Sir Henry 
Clinton, on the 30th of May, set out on his second grand cruise up 
the Hudson, with an armament of about seventy sail, great and 
small, and one hundred and fifty flat boats. Admiral Collier com- 



412 LIFE OF U'ASHIXGTOX. 

manded the armament, and there ^vas a land force of about five 
thousand men under Gen, A'aughan. The fn-st aim of Chnton was 
to get possession of Stony and Vcrplanck's Points. On the morn- 
ing of the 31th, the forces Avcre landed in two divisions, the largest 
under Gen. \'aughan, on the cast side of the river, about seven or 
eight miles below Vcrplanck's Point; the other, commanded by 
Sir Henry in person, landed in Haverstraw Bay, about three miles 
below Stony Point. There were about thirty men in the unfinished 
fort ; they abandoned it on the approach of the enemy, and 
retreated into the Highlands, having first set fire to the block- 
bouse. The British took quiet possessions of the fort in the even- 
ing; dragged up cannon and mortars in the night, and at daybreak 
opened a furious fire upon Fort Lafayette. It was cannonaded at 
the same time by the armed vessels, and a demonstration was 
made on it by the division under Gen. Vaughan. Thus surrounded, 
the little garrison of seventy men was forced to surrender, with no 
other stipulation than safety to their persons and to the property 
they had in the fort. Major Andrd was aide-de-camp to Sir Henry, 
and signed the articles of capitulation. Clinton stationed garrisons 
in both posts, and set to work with great activity to complete the 
fortification of Stony Point. His troops remained for several days 
in two divisions on the opposite sides of the river; the fleet general- 
ly fell down a little below King's Ferry ; some of the square-rigged 
vessels, however, with others of a smaller size, and flat-bottomed 
boats, having troops on board, dropped down Haverstraw Bay, 
and finally disappeared behind the promontories which advance 
across the upper part of the Tappan Sea. Washington presumed 
that the main object of Sir Henry was to get possession of West 
Point, the guardian fortress of the river, and that the capture of 
Stony and Vcrplanck's Points were preparatory steps. He would 
fain have dislodged him from these posts, which cut off all com- 
munication by the way of King's Ferry, but they were too strong, 
lie had not the force nor military apparatus necessary. Deferring 
any attempt on them for the present, he took measures for the pro- 
tection of West Point. Leaving Gen. Putnam and the main body 
of the aniiy at Smith's Clove, a mountain pass in the rear of Haver- 
straw, he removed his headquarters to New Windsor, to be near 
West Point in case of need, and to press the completion of its works. 
Gen. McDougall was transferred to the command of the Point. 
Three brigades were stationed at different places on the opposite 
side of the river, under Gen. Heath, from which fatigue parties 
crossed daily to work on the fortifications. This strong disposition 
of the American forces checked Sir Henry's designs against the 
Highlands. He returned to New York ; where he soon set on foot 
a desolating expedition along the seaboard of Connecticut. That 
State, while it furnished the American armies with provisions and 
recruits, and infested the sea with privateers, had hitherto experi' 
enced nothing of the horrors of war within its borders. Gen. (late 
Gov.) Tryon, was the officer selected for this inglorious, but appar- 
ently congenial service. About the beginning of July he embarked with 
two thousand six hundred men, in a fleet of transports and tenders, 



1779-] STONY POINT SUI^PRISED. 413 

and was convoyed up the Sound by Sir George Collier with two ships 
of war. On the 5th of July, the troops landed near New Haven, 
in two divisions, one led by Try on, the other by Brigadier-general 
Garth. They came upon the neighborhood by surprise ; yet the 
militia assembled in haste, and made a resolute through ineffectual 
opposition. The British captured the town, dismantled the fort, 
and took or destroyed all the vessels in the harbor ; with all the 
artillery, ammunition, and public stores. Several private houses 
were plundered. They next proceeded to Fairfield ; where they not 
merely ravaged and destroyed the public stores and the vessels in 
the harbor, but laid the town itself in ashes. The sight of homes 
laid desolate, and dwellings wrapped in flames, produced a more 
determined opposition to the progress of the destroyers ; whereupon 
the ruthless ravage of the latter increased as they advanced. At 
Norwalk, where they landed on the nth of July, they burnt one 
hundred and thirty dwelling-houses, eighty-seven barns, twenty- 
two store-houses, seventeen shops, four mills, two places of worship, 
and five vessels which were in the harbor. These acts of devasta- 
tion were accompanied by atrocities, inevitable where the brutal 
passions of the soldiery are aroused. — Stony Point was a rocky pro- 
montory advancing far into the Hudson, which washed three sides 
of it. A deep morass, covered at high water, separated it from the 
mainland, but at low tide might be traversed by a narrow cause- 
way and bridge. The promontory was crowned by strong works, 
furnished with heavy ordnance, commanding the morass and 
causeway. Lower down were two rows of abatis, and the shore 
at the foot of the hill could be swept by vessels 01 war anchored in 
the river. The garrison was about six hnndred strong, commanded 
by Lieut. -Col. Johnson. To attempt the surprisal of this isolated 
post, thus strongly fortified, was a perilous enterprise. General 
Wayne, Mad Anthony as he was called from his daring valor, was 
the officer to whom Washington proposed it, and he engaged in it with 
avidity. On the 15th of July, about mid-day, he set out with his 
light-infantry from Sand Beach, fourteen miles distant from Stony 
Point. The roads were rugged, across mountains, morasses, and 
narrow defiles, in the skirts of the Dunderberg, where frequently 
it was necessary to proceed in single file. About eight in the even- 
ing, they arrived within a mile and a half of the forts, without be- 
ing discovered. Bringing the men to a halt, Wayne and his prin- 
cipal officers went nearer, and carefully reconnoitred the works 
and their environs, so as to proceed understandingly and without 
confusion. About half-past eleven, the whole moved forward, 
guided by a negro of the neighborhood who had frequently carried 
in fruit to the garrison, and served the Americans as a spy. He 
led the way, accompanied by two stout men disguised as farmers. 
The countersign was given to the first sentinel , posted on high ground 
west of the morass. While the negro talked with him, the men 
seized &nd gagged him. The sentinel posted at the head of the 
causeway was served in the same manner ; so that hitherto no 
alarm was given. The causeway, however, was overflowed, and it 
was some time after twelve o'clock before the troops could cross ; 



414 I'IFE OF WASHINGTON. 

leaving three hundred men under Gen. Muhlenberg, on the western 
side of the morass, as a reserve. At the foot of the promontory, 
the troops were divided into two columns, for simultaneous attacks 
on the opposite sides of the works. One hundred and fifty volun- 
teers, led by Lieut. -Col. Fleury, seconded by Major Posey, formed 
the vanguard of the right column ; one hundred volunteers under 
Major Stewart, the vanguard of the left. In advance of each was 
a forlorn hope of twenty men, one led by Lieut. Gibbon, the other 
by Lieut. Knox; it was their desperate duty to remove the abatis. 
So well had the whole affair been conducted, that the Ainericans 
were close upon the outworks before they were discovered. There 
uas then severe skirmishing at the pickets. The Americans used 
the bayonet ; the others discharged their muskets. The reports 
roused the garrison. Stony Point was instantly in an uproar. The 
drums beat to arms ; everyone hurried to his alarm post ; the works 
were hastily manned, and a tremendous fire of grape shot and 
musketry opened upon the assailants. The two columns forced 
their way with the bayonet, at opposite points, surmounting every 
obstacle. Col. Fleury was the first to enter the fort and strike the 
British flag. Major Posey sprang to the ramparts and shouted, 
" The fort is our own." Wayne, who led the right column, received 
at the inner abatis a contusion on the head from amusketball, and 
would have fallen to the ground, but his two aides-de-camp sup- 
ported him. Thinking it was a death wound, " Carry me into the 
fort," said he, "and let me die at the head of my column." He 
was borne in between his aides, and soon recovered his self-pos- 
session. The two columns arrived nearly at the same time, and 
met in the center of the works. The garrison surrendered at dis- 
cretion. At daybreak, the guns of the fort were turned on Fort 
Lafayette and the shipping. The latter cut their cables and drop- 
ped down the river. Through a series of blunders, the detachment 
from West Point, which was to have cooperated, did not arrive in 
time, and came unprovided with suitable ammunition for their 
battering artillery. This part of the enterprise, therefore, failed ; 
Fort Lafayette held out. The storming of Stony Point stands out 
in high relief, as one of the most brilliant achievements of the war. 
The Americans had effected it without firing a musket. On their 
part, it was the silent deadly work of the bayonet ; the fierce resistance 
they met at the outset may be judged by the havoc made in their 
forlorn hope ; out of twenty-two men, seventeen were either killed or 
wounded. The whole loss of the Americans was fifteen killed and 
eighty-three wounded. Of the garrison, sixty-three were slain, in- 
including two officers ; five hundred and fifty-three were taken 
prisoners, among whom were a lieutenant-colonel, four captains, 
and twenty-three subaltern officers. Wayne, in his dispatches, 
WTites : " The humanity of our brave soldiery, who scorned to take 
the lives of a vanquished foe when calling for mercy, reflects the 
highest honor on them, and accounts for the few of the emeny 
killed on the occasion," Gen. Charles Lee, when he heard of 
Wayne's achievement, wrote to him as follows: •' What I am go- 
JDg to say, you will not, I hope, consider as paying my court in 



1779'] tVASHiNG TON A T WEST POINT. 4 1 5 

this hour of your glory ; it is dictated by the genuine feelings of my 
heart. I do most sincerely declare, that your assault of Stony 
Point is not only the most brilliant, in my opinion, throughout the 
whole course of the war on either side, but that it is the most 
brilHant I am acquainted with in history ; the assault of Schweid- 
nitz by Marshal Laudon, I think inferior to it." This is the more 
magnanimous on the part of Lee, as Wayne had been the chief 
witness against him in the court-martial after the affair of Mon- 
mouth. While Stony Point, therefore, stands a lasting monument 
of the daring courage of " Mad Anthony," let it call up the remem- 
brance of this freak of generosity on the part of the eccentric Lee. 
Washington having well examined the post in company with an 
engineer and several general officers, found that at least fifteen 
hundred men would be required to maintain it — a number not to be 
spared from the army at present. The works, too, were only cal- 
culated for defence on the land side, and were open towards the 
river, where the enemy depended upon protection from their ships. 
It would be necessary to construct them anew, with great labor. 
The army, also, would have to be in the vicinity, too distant from 
West Point to aid in completing or defending its fortifications, and 
exposed to the risk of a general action on unfavorable terms. 
Accordingly, Washington evacuated the post on the i8th, remov- 
ing the cannon and stores, and destroying the works ; after which 
he drew his forces together in the Highlands, and established his 
quarters at West Point. 

A British detatchment from Halifax of seven or eight hundred 
men, had founded in June a military post on the eastern side of the 
Bay of Penobscot, nine miles below the river of that name, and 
were erecting a fort there, intended to protect Nova Scotia, control 
the frontiers of Massachusetts, and command the vast wooded 
regions of Maine whence inexhaustible supplies of timber might be 
procured for the royal shipyards at Halifax and elsewhere. The 
people of Boston, roused by this movement, which invaded their 
territory, and touched their pride and interests, undertook, on their 
own responsibility, a naval and military expedition intended to 
drive off the invaders. A squadron of armed ships and brigan- 
tines under Commodore Saltonstall, at length put to sea, convoy- 
ing transports, on board of which were near four thousand land 
troops under Gen. Level. Arriving in the Penobscot on the 25th 
of May, they found Col. Maclean posted on a peninsula, steep 
and precipitous toward the bay, and deeply trenched on the land 
side, with three ships of war anchored before it. Level effected a 
landing on the peninsula before daybreak on the 28th. The fort 
was half finished ; the guns were not mounted ; the three armed 
vessels could not have offered a formidable resistance; but Level 
threw up ^works at seven hundred and fifty yards distance, and 
opened a cannonade, which was continued from day to day, for a 
fortnight. The enemy availed themselves of the delay to 
strengthen their works, in which they were aided by men from the 
ships. Level sent to Boston for a reinforcement of Continental 
troops. A golden opportunity was lost by this excess of caution. 



41 6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

It gave time for Admiral Collier at New York to hear of this enter- 
prise, and take measures for its defeat. On the 13th of August, 
Lovel was astounded by intelligence that the admiral was arrived 
before the bay with a superior armament. Thus fairly entrapped, 
he endeavored to extricate his force with as little loss as possible. 
Before news of Collier's arrival could reach the fort, he reem- 
barked his troops. His armed vessels were captured, others were 
set on fire or blown up, and abandoned by their crews. The trans- 
ports being eagerly pursued and in great danger of being taken, 
disgorged the troops and seamen on the wild shores of the river: 
whence they had to make the best of their way to Boston, strug- 
gling for upwards of a hundred miles through a pathless wilder- 
ness, before they reached the settled parts of the country. 

Washington was cheered by the success of an expedition set on 
foot under his own eye, by his young friend, Major Henry Lee of 
the Virgina dragoons. This active and daring officer had fre- 
quently been employed by him in scouring the country on the 
west side of the Hudson to collect information; keep an eye upon 
the enemy's posts; cut off their supplies, and check their foraging 
parties. The coup de main at Stony Point had piqued his emula- 
tion. Paulus Hook is a long low point of the Jersey shore, 
stretching into the Hudson, and connected to the main land by a 
sandy isthmus. A fort had been erected on it by the British, and 
garrisoned with four or five hundred men, under the command of 
Major Sutherland. It was a strong position. A creek fordable 
only in two places rendered the Hook difficult of access. Within 
this, a deep trench had been cut acrcss the isthmus, traversed by a 
drawbridge with a barred gate; and still within this was a double 
row of abatis, extending into the water. The whole position, with 
the country immediately adjacent, was separated from the rest of 
Jersey by the Hackensack River, running parallel to the Hudson, 
at the distance of a very few miles, and only traversable in boats, 
excepting at the New Bridge, about fourteen miles from Paulus 
Hook. On the i8th of August, Lee set out on an expedition to 
surprise the fort, at the head of three hundred men of Lord Stirl- 
ing's division, and a troop of dismounted dragoons under Captain 
McLane. The road they took lay along that belt of rocky and 
wooded heights which borders the Hudson, and forms a rugged 
neck between it and the Hackensack. Lord Stirling followed with 
five hundred men, and encamped at the New Bridge on that river, 
to be at hand to render aid if required. It was between two and 
three in the morning when Lee and his men arrived at the creek 
which rendered Paulus Hook difficult of access. They passed the 
creek and ditch, entered the works unmolested, and had made 
themselves masters of the post before the negligent garrison were 
well roused from sleep. Alarm guns from the ships in the river 
and the forts at New York threatened speedy reinforcements to 
the enemy. Having made one hundred and fifty-nine prisoners, 
among whom were three officers, Lee commenced his retreat. He 
had achieved his object: a coup de main of signal audacity. Few 
of the enemy were slain, for there was but little fighting, and no 



1779.] HEADQUARTERS, ETIQUETTE AND FARE, 417 

massacre. His own loss was two men killed and three wounded. 

Washington was now at West Point, dilgently providing for the 
defence of the Highlands against any further attempts of the 
enemy. Of his singularly isolated situation with respect to public 
affairs, we have evidence in the following passage of a letter to 
Edmond Randolph, who had recently taken his seat in Congress. 
•' I shall be happy in such communications as your leisure and 
other considerations will permit you to transmit to me, for I arn as 
totally unacquainted with the political state of things, and what is 
going forward in the great national council as if I was an alien; 
when a competent knowledge of the temper and designs of our 
allies, from time to time, and the frequent changes and complex- 
ion of affairs in Europe might, as they ought to do, have a con- 
siderable influence on the operations of our army, and would in 
many cases determine the propriety of measures, which under a 
cloud of darkness can only be groped at." Of the style of liv- 
ing at headquarters, we have a picture in the following letter to 
Doctor John Cochran, the surgeon-general and physician of the 
army. It is almost the only instance of sportive writing in all 
Washington's correspondence: "Dear Doctor: — I have asked 
Mrs. Cochran and Mrs. Livingston to dine with me to-morrow; but 
am I not in honor bound to apprise them of their fare ? As I hate 
deception, even where the imagination only is concerned, I will. It is 
needless to premise that my table is large enough to hold the 
ladies. Of this they had ocular proof yesterday. To say how it 
is usually covered is more essential. Since our arrival at this 
happy spot, we have had a ham, sometimes a shoulder of bacon, 
to grace the head of the table: a piece ot roast beef adorns the 
foot; and a dish of beans or greens, almost imperceptible, deco- 
rates the center. W^hen the cook has a mind to cut a figure, 
which I presume will be the case to-morrow, we have two beef- 
steak pies, or dishes of crabs, in addition, one on each side of the 
centre dish, dividing the space and reducing the distance between 
dish and dish to about six feet, which, without them, would be 
about twelve feet apart. Of late he has had the surprising sagac- 
ity to discover that apples will make pies, and it is a question, if in 
the violence of his efforts, we do not get one of apples instead of 
having both of ^beefsteaks. If the ladies can put up with such 
entertainment, and will submit to partake of it on plates once tin 
but now iron (not become so by the labor of scouring), I shall be 
happy to see them." We may add, that, however poor the fare 
and table equipage at headquarters, everything was conducted 
with strict etiquette and decorum, and we make no doubt the ladies 
in question were handed in with as much courtesy to the bacon 
and greens and tin dishes, as though they were to be regaled with 
the daintiest viands, served up on enamelled plate and porcelain. 

Washington, by his diligence in fortifying West Point, rendered 
that fastness of the Highlands apparently impregnable. Sir 
Henry turned his thoughts, therefore, towards the South, hoping, 
by a successful expedition in that direction, to counterbalance ill 
success in other quarters. At this juncture news was received of 
14 



41 8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

the arrival of the Count D'Estaing, with a formidable fleet on the 
coast of Georgia, having made a successful cruise in the West 
Indies, in the course of which he had taken St. Vincent's and 
Granada. Clinton, apprehensive of a combined attack on New 
York, caused Rhode Island to be evacuated; the troops and 
stores to be brought away; the garrisons brought off from Stony 
and Verplanck's Points, and all his forces to be concentrated at 
New York, which he endeavored to put in the strongest posture of 
defence. Spain had joined France in hostilities against England, 
increasing the solicitude and perplexities of the enemy, and giving 
fresh contidence to the Americans. 

The Chevalier de la Luzerne, minister from France, with Mons. 
Barbe Marbois, his secretary of legation, having recently landed 
at Boston, paid Washington a visit at his mountain fortress, bring- 
ing letters of introduction from Lafayette. Washington welcomed 
the chevalier to the mountains with the thunder of artillery, and 
received him at his fortress with military ceremonial; but very 
probably surprised him with the stern simplicity of his table, 
while he charmed him with the dignity and grace with which he 
presided at it. 

Admiral D'Estaing, on arriving on the coast of Georgia, had 
been persuaded to cooperate with the Southern army, under Gen. 
Lincoln, in an attempt to recover Savannah, which had fallen into 
the hands of the British during the preceding year. For three 
weeks a siege was carried on with great vigor by regular approaches 
on land, and cannonade and bombardment from the shipping. 
October 9th, Lincoln and D'Estaing, at the head of their choicest 
troops, advanced before daybreak to storm the works. The assault 
was gallant but unsuccessful; both Americans and French had 
planted their standards on the redoubts, but were finally repulsed; 
and both armies retired from before the place, the French having 
lost in killed and wounded upwards of six hundred men, the Amer- 
icans about four hundred. D'Estaing himself was among the 
wounded, and the gallant Count Pulaski among the slain. The 
loss of the enemy was trifling, being protected by their works. The 
Americans recrossed the Savannah River into South Carolina; and 
the French reembarked. The tidings of this reverse, which 
reached Washington late in November, put an end to all prospect 
of cooperation from the French fleet; and arrangements were 
made for the winter. Thearmy was thrown into two divisions; one 
was to be stationed under Gen. Heath in the Highlands, for the 
protection of West Point and the neighboring post ; the other and 
principal division was to be hutted near Ivlorristown, where Wash- 
ington was to have his headquarters. The cavalry were to be sent 
to Connecticut. 

Gen. Clinton was regulating his movements by those the French 
fleet might make after the repulse at Savannah. Intelligence at 
length arrived that it had been dispersed by a violent storm. 
Count D'Estaing, with a part, had shaped his course for France; 
the rest had proceeded to the West Indies. Sir Henry now lost no 
time in carrying his plans into operation. Leaving the garrison of" 



i779-'8o.] DEPRECIA TION OF THE CURRENCY. 419 

New York under the command of Lieut.-Gen. Knyphausen, he 
embarked several thousand men, on board of transports, to be 
convoyed by five ships-of-the-line and several frigates under Ad- 
miral Arbuthnot, and set sail on the 26th of December accompa- 
nied by Lord Cornwallis, on an expedition intended for the capture 
of Charleston and the reduction of South Carolina. 

The dreary encampment at Valley Forge has become proverbial 
for its hardships; yet they were scarcely more severe than those 
suffered by Washington's army during the present winter, 
while hutted among the heights of Tvlorristown. The winter set in 
early, and was uncommonly rigorous. For weeks at a time the 
army was on half allowance; sometimes without meat, sometimes 
without bread, sometimes without both. There was a scarcity, too, 
of clothing and blankets, so that the poor soldiers were starving 
with cold as well as hunger. The year 1 780 opened upon a fam- 
ishing camp. "For a fortnight past," writes Washington, on the 
8th of January, '• the troops, both officers and men, have been 
almost perishing with want. Yet they have borne their sufferings 
with a patience that merits the approbation, and ought to excite 
the sympathies, of tneir countrymen." The severest trials of the 
Revolution, in fact, were not in the field, where there were shouts 
to excite and laurels to be won; but in the squalid wretchedness of 
ill-provided camps, where there was nothing to cheer and every- 
thing to be endured. To suffer was the lot of the revolutionary 
soldier. A rigorous winter had much to do with the actual dis- 
tresses of the army, but the root of the evil lay in the derangement 
of the currency. Congress had commenced the war without ade- 
quate funds, and without the power of imposing direct taxes. To 
meet pressing emergencies, it had emitted paper money, which, for 
a time, passed currently at par; but sank in value as further emis- 
sions succeeded, and that already in circulation remained unre- 
deemed. The several States added to the evil by emitting paper 
in their separate capacities: thus the country gradually became 
flooded with a "continental currency," as it was called; which 
declined to such a degree, that forty dollars in paper were equiva- 
lent to only one in specie. Congress attempted to put a stop to 
this depreciation, by making paper money a legal tender, at its 
nominal value, in the discharge of debts, however contracted. 
This opened the door to knavery, and added a nev/ feature to the 
evil. In the present emergency Washington was reluctantly com- 
pelled, by the distresses of the army, to call upon the counties of 
the State for supplies of grain and cattle, proportioned to their 
respective abilities. These supplies were to be brought into the 
camp within a certain time; the grain to be measured and the cat- 
tle estimated by any two of the magistrates of the county in con- 
junction with the commissary, and certificates to be given by the 
latter, specifying the quantity of each and the terms of payment. 
Wherever a compliance with this call was refused, the articles 
required were to be impressed: it was a painful alternative, yet 
nothing else could save the army from dissolution or starving. 
Washington charged his officers to act with as much tenderness as 



420 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

possible » graduating the exaction according to the stock of each 
individual, so that no family should be deprived of what was 
necessary to its subsistence. To the honor of the magistrates and 
the people of Jersey, his requisitions were punctually complied 
with, and in many counties exceeded. Too much praise, indeed, 
cannot be given to the people of this State for the patience with 
which most of them bore these exactions, and the patriotism with 
which many of them administered to the wants of their country- 
men in arms. Exhausted as the State was by repeated drainings, 
yet, at one time, when deep snows cut off all distant supplies, 
Washington's army was wholly subsisted by it. As the winter 
advanced, the cold increased in severity. It was the most intense 
ever remembered in the country. The great bay of New York 
was frozen over. Provisions grew scanty; and there was such lack 
of firewood, that old transports were broken up, and uninhabited 
wooden houses pulled down for fuel. The safety of the city was 
endangered. The ships of war immovably icebound in its harbor, 
no longer gave it protection. The insular security of the place 
was at an end. An army with its heaviest artillery and baggage 
might cross the Hudson on the ice. 

Washington was aware of the opportunity which offered itself 
for a signal coup de main, but was not in a condition to 
profit by it. Still, in the frozen condition cf the bay and 
rivers, some minor blow might be attempted, sufficient to 
rouse and cheer the spirits of the people. With this view, 
having ascertained that the ice formed a bridge across the strait 
between the Jersey shore and Statea Island, Lord Stirling with 
twenty-five hundred men, crossed on the night of the 14th of Jan- 
uary, from De Hart*s Point to the island. His approach was dis- 
covered; the troops took refuge in the works, which were too 
Strongly situated to be attacked. Plis own situation becoming 
hazardous. Lord Stirling recrossed to the Jersey Shore with a num- 
ber of prisoners whom he had captured. By way of retort, Kny- 
phausen, on the 25th of January, sent out two detachments to 
harass the American outposts. One crossed to Paulus Hook, and 
being joined by part of the garrison of that post, pushed on to 
Newark, surprised and captured a company stationed there, set 
f;rc to the academy, and returned without loss. The other detach- 
ment, under Lieut.-Col. Boskirk, crossed from Staten Island to 
Trembly's Point, surprised the picket-guard at Elizabethtown, and 
captured two majors, tv.o captains, and forty-two privates. The 
disgraceful part of the expedition was the burning of the town 
liouse, a church, and a private residence, and the plundering of 
the inhabitants. The church destroyed was a Presbyterian place 
cf worship, and its pastor, the Rev. James Caldwell, had rendered 
himself an especial object of hostility to both Briton and tory. He 
was a zealous patriot; had served as chaplain to those portions of 
the American army that successively occupied the Jerseys; and 
now officiated in that capacity in Col. Elias Dayton's regiment. 
His church had at times served as hospital to the American sol- 
dier; or shelter to the hastily assembled militia. Its bell was the 



\7^o.]I^AVAG£:S OF THE ^* NEUTRAL GROUNDr 421 

tocsin of alarm; from its pulpit he had many a time stirred up the 
patriotism of his countrymen by his ardent, eloquent, and pathetic 
appeals, laying beside him his pistols before he commenced. His 
popularity in the army, and among the Jersey people, was 
unbounded. 

In the lower part of Westchester County, in a hilly region lying 
between the British and American lines, about twenty miles from 
the British outposts, and not far from White Plains, the Americans 
had estabhshed a post of three hundred men at a stone building 
commonly known as Young's house, from the name of its owner. 
It commanded a road which passed from north to south down 
along the narrow but fertile valley of the Sawmill River, now 
known by its original Indian name of the Neperan. On this road 
the garrison of Young's house kept a vigilant eye, to intercept the 
convoys of cattle and provisions which had been collected or 
plundered by the enemy, and which passed down this valley 
towards New York. This post had long been an annoyance to the 
enemy, but its distance from the British lines had hitherto saved it 
from attack. On the evening of the 2d of February, an expedi- 
tion set out from King's Bridge, led by Lieut. -Col. Norton. It was 
a weary tramp; the snow in many places was more than two feet 
deep, and they had to take by-ways and cross-roads to avoid the 
American patrols. The sun rose while they were yet seven miles 
from Young's house. Before they could reach the house the coun- 
try had taken the alarm, and the Westchester yeomanry had armed 
themselves, and were hastening to aid the garrison. The British 
light infantry and grenadiers invested the mansion; the cavalry 
posted themselves on a neighboring eminence, to prevent retreat or 
reinforcement, and the house was assailed, It made a brave resis- 
tance, and was aided by some of the yeomanry stationed in an 
adjacent orchard. The garrison, however, was overpowered; 
numbers were killed, and ninety taken prisoners. The house was 
sacked and set in flames. We give this affair as a specimen of the 
petite guerre carried on in the southern part of Westchester 
County; the neutral ground, as it was called, but subjected 
from its vicinity to the city, to be foraged by the royal forces, and 
plundered and insulted by refugees and tories. No part of the 
Union was more harried and trampled down by friend and foe, 
during the Revolution, than this debatable region and the Jerseys. 

The most irksome duty that Washington had to perform during 
the winter's encampment at Morristown, regarded Gen. Arnold 
and his military government of Philadelphia in 1778. At the time 
of entering upon this command, Arnold's accounts with government 
were yet unsettled; the committee appointed by Congress, at his own 
request, to examine them, having considered some of his charges 
dubious, and others exorbitant. Arnold occupied one of the 
finest houses in the city ; set up a splendid establishment ; had his 
carriage and four horses and a train of domestics ; gave expensive 
entertainments, and indulged in a luxury and parade, which were 
condemned as little befitting a republican general; especially one 
whose accounts with government were yet unsettled, and who had 



422 LTFE OF WASHINGTON. 

imputations of mercenary rapacity still hanging over him. Osten- 
tatious prodigality, in fact, was his besetting sin. To cope with 
his overwhelming expenses, he engaged in various speculations, 
rnore befitting the trafficking habits of his early life than his pres- 
ent elevated position. Nay, he availed himself of that position to 
aid his speculations, and sometimes made temporary use of public 
moneys passing through his hands. In the exercise of his military 
functions, he had become involved in disputes with the president 
(Wharton) and executive council of Pennsylvania, and by his 
conduct, which was deemed arbitrary and arrogant, had drawn 
upon himself the hostility of that body, which became stern and 
tinsparing censors of his conduct. He had not been many weeks 
in Philadelphia before he became attached to one of its reigning 
belles, Miss Margaret Shippen, daughter of Mr. Edward Shippen, 
in after years chief justice of Pennsylvania. Her family were not 
considered well aff'ected to the American cause; the young lady 
lierself, during the occupation of the city by the enemy, had been 
a "toast" among the British officers. Party feeling ran high on 
local subjects connected with the change of the State government. 
Arnold's connections with the Shippen family increased his disfa- 
vor with the president and executive council, who were whigs to a 
Onan; and it was sneeringly observed, that "he had courted the 
loyalists from the start." Gen. Joseph Reed, at that time one of 
the executive committee, observes in a letter to Gen. Greene, 
"Will you not think it extraordinary that Gen. Arnold made a 
public entertainment the night before last, of which, not only 
common tory ladies, but the wives and daughters of persons pro- 
ecribed by the State, and now with the enemy at New York, 
formed a very considerable number? The fact is literally true." 
As he was an officer of the United States, the complaints and 
grievances of Pennsylvania were set forth by the executive coun- 
cil in eight charges, and forwarded to Congress, accompanied by 
documents, and a letter from President Reed. Arnold's first 
solicitude was about the effect they might have upon Miss Shippen, 
to whom he was now engaged. On Feb. 9th he issued an address 
to the public, recalling his faithful services of nearly four years, 
and inveighing against the proceedings of the president and coun- 
cil; who, not content with injuring him in a cruel and unprece- 
dented manner with Congress, had ordered copies of their charges 
to be printed and dispersed throughout the several States, for the 
purpose of prejudicing the public mind against him, while the 
matter was yet in suspense. He had requested Congress to direct 
a court-martial to inquire into his conduct, and trusted his country- 
men would suspend their judgment in the matter, until he should 
have an opportunity of being heard. Public opinion was divided. 
Plis brilliant services spoke eloquently in his favor. On the i6th 
of Feb. his appeal to Congress was referred to the committee 
\vhich had under consideration the letter of President Reed and 
its accompanying documents. About the middle of March, the 
committee brought i:i a report exculpating him from all criminality 
in the matters charged against hiui. As soon as the report was 



I /So.] ARNOLD REPRIMANDED. 423 

brought in he considered his name vindicated and resigned. IJut 
Congress referred the subject anew to a joint committee of their 
body and the assembly and council of Pennsylvania. Arnold 
was, at this time, on the eve of marriage with Miss Shippen, and 
it must have been peculiarly galling to his pride to be kept under 
the odium of imputed delinquencies. The report of the joint com- 
mittee brought up animated discussions in Congress. It was con- 
tended that certain charges were only cognizable by a court-mar- 
tial, and, after a warm debate, it was resolved (April 3d), by a 
large majority, that the commander-in-chief should appoint such a 
court for the consideration of them. Arnold inveighed bitterly 
against the injustice of subjecting him to a tiial before a mili- 
tary tribunal for alleged offences of which he had been acquitted 
by the committee of Congress. It was doubtless soothing to his 
irritated pride, that the woman on whom he had placed his affec* 
tions remained true to him; for his marriage with Miss Shippen 
took place just five days after the mortifying vote of Congress. 
Washington appointed the ist of May for the trial, but it was 
repeatedly postponed. A.rnold continued to reside at Philadelphia, 
holding his commission in the army, but filling no public office; getting 
deeper and deeper in debt, and becoming more and more unpopular. 
His situation, he said, was cruel. His character would continue 
to suffer until he should be acquitted by a court-martial, and he 
would be effectually prevented from joining the army, which he 
wished to do as soon as his wounds would permit, that he might 
render the country every service in his power at this critical time. 
At length when the campaign was over, and the army had gone 
into winter-quarters, the long-delayed court-martial was assembled 
at Morristown. Of the eight charges originally advanced against 
Arnold by the Pennsylvania council, four only came under cogni- 
zance of the court. Of two of these he was entirely acquitted. 
The remaining two were. First. That while in the camp at Val- 
ley F'orge, he, without the knowledge of the commander-in-chief, 
or the sanction of the State government, had granted a written 
permission for a vessel belonging to disaffected persons, to proceed 
from the fort of Philadelphia, then in possession of the enemy, to 
any port of the United States. Second. That, availing himself 
of his official authority, he had appropriated the public wagons of 
Pennsylvania, when called forth on a special emergency, to the 
transportation of private property, and that of persons who volun- 
tarily remained with the enemy, and were deemed disaffected to 
the interests and independence of America. In regard to both 
charges, nothing fraudulent on the part of Arnold was proved, 
but the transactions involved in the first were pronounced irregu- 
lar, and contrary to one of the articles of war; and in the second, 
imprudent and reprehensible, considering the high station occu- 
pied by the general at the time, and the court sentenced him to be 
reprimanded by the commander-in-chief. The sentence was con- 
firmed by Congress on the 12th of February (1780). The repri- 
mand was administered by Washington with consummate deli- 
cacy. The following were his words, as repeated by M. de Mar* 



424 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

bois, the French secretary of legation : "Our profession is the 
chastest of all : even the shadow of a fault tarnishes the lustre of 
our finest achievements. The least inadvertance may rob us of 
the public favor so hard to be acquired. I reprehend you for 
having forgotten, that, in proportion as you had rendered yourself 
formidable to our enemies, you should have been guarded and 
temperate in your deportment towards your fellow-citizens. 
Exhibit anew those noble qualities which have placed you on the 
list of our most valued commanders. I will myself furnish you, 
as far as it may be in my power, with opportunities of regaining 
the esteem of your country." 

The population of South Carolina was made up of emigrants, 
or the descendents of emigrants, from various lands and of various 
nations : Huguenots, who had emigrated from France after the 
revocation of the edict of Nantz; Germans, from the Palatinate; 
Irish Protestants, who had received grants of land from the 
crown; Scotch Highlanders, transported hither after the disastrous 
battle of Culloden; Dutch colonists, who had left New York, after 
its submission to England, and been settled here on bounty lands. 
Some of these foreign elements might be hostile to British domina- 
tion, but others would be favorable. There was a large class, too, 
that had been born or had passed much of their lives in England, 
\v\\o retained for it a filial affection, spoke of it as home, and 
sent their children to be educated there. The number of slaves 
within the province and of savages on its western frontier, together 
with its wide extent of unprotected sea-coast, were encourage- 
ments to an invasion by sea and land. Gen. Lincoln was in com- 
mand at Charleston, but uncertain as yet of the designs of the 
enemy, and at a loss what course to pursue. The voyage of Sir 
Henry Chnton (from New York to Charleston) proved long and 
tempestuous. The ships were dispersed. Several fell into the 
hands of the Americans. One ordnance vessel foundered. Most 
of the artillery horses, and all those of the cavalry perished. The 
scattered ships rejoined each other about the end of January, at 
Tybee Bay on Savannah River. There was a corps of two hun- 
dred and fifty dragoons, on which Clinton depended gready in the 
kind of guerilla warfare he was likely to pursue, in a country of 
forest and morasses. Lieut. -Col. Banastre Tarleton, who com- 
manded them, was one of those dogs of war, which Sir Henry 
was prepared to let slip on emergencies, to scour and maraud the 
country. This "bold dragoon," so noted in Southern warfare, 
was about twenty-six years of age, of a swarthy complexion, with 
small, black, piercing eyes. He is described as being rather 
below the middle size, square-built and strong, "with large mus- 
cular legs." He repaired with his dragoons, in some of the quar- 
termaster's boats, to Port Royal Island, on the seaboard of South 
Carohna, " to collect at that place, from friends or enemies, by 
money or by force, all the horses belonging to the islands in the 
neighborhood." He succeeded in procuring horses, though of an 
inferior quality to those he had lost. In the meantime, the trans- 
ports having on board a great part of the army, sailed under con- 



i78o.] CHARLESTON A TTACKED. 425 

voy on the loth of Feb. from Savannah to North Edisto Sound, 
where the troops disembarked on the I Ith, on St. Johns Island, about 
thirty miles below Charleston. Thence, Chnton set out for the banks 
of Ashley River, opposite to the city, while a part of the fleet pro- 
ceeded round by sea, for the purpose of blockading the harbor. 
Much time was consumed in fortifying intermediate ports, to keep up 
a secure communication with the fleet. He ordered from Savannah 
all the troops that could be spared, and wrote to Knyphausen, at 
New York, for reinforcements from that place. Gen. Lincoln took 
advantage of this slowness on the part of his assailant, to extend 
and strengthen the works. Charleston stands at the end of an 
isthmus formed by the Ashley and Cooper rivers. Beyond the 
main works on the land side he cut a canal, from one to the other 
of the swamps which border these rivers. In advance of the 
canal were two rows of abatis and a double picketed ditch. 
Within the canal, and between it and the main works, were strong 
redoubts and batteries, to open a flanking fire on any approaching 
column, while an inclosed horn-work of masonry formed a kind 
of citadel. A squadron, commanded by Commodore Whipple, 
and composed of nine vessels of war of various sizes, the largest 
mounting forty-four guns, was to cooperate with Forts Moultrie 
and Johnston, and the various batteries, in the defence of the har- 
bor. They were to lie before the bar so as t© command the 
entrance of it. Great reliance also was placed on the bar itself, 
which it was thought no ship-of-the-line could pass. Gen. Lincoln 
yielded to the entreaties of the inhabitants, and shut himself up 
with them in the place for its defense, leaving merely his cavalry 
and two hundred light troops outside, who were to hover about the 
enemy and prevent small parties from marauding. It was not 
until the 12th of March that Sir Henry effected his tardy approach, 
and took up a position on Charleston Neck, a few miles above the 
town. Admiral Arbuthnot soon showed an intention of introduc- 
ing his ships into the harbor; barricading their waists, anchoring 
them in a situation where they might take advantage of the first 
favorable spring-tide, and fixing buoys on the bar for their guid- 
ance. Commodore Whipple could not anchor nearer than within 
three miles of the bar, so that it would be impossible for him to 
defend the passage of it He quitted his station Avithin it, there- 
fore, after having destroyed a part of the enemy's buoys, and took 
a position where his ships might be abreast, and form a cross-fire 
with the batteries of Fort Moultrie, where Col. Pinckney com- 
manded. 

Washington's utmost vigilance was required to keep watch upon 
New York and maintain the security of the Hudson, the vital part 
of the confederacy. The weak state of the American means of 
warfare in both quarters, presented a choice of difficulties. The 
South needed support. Could the North give it without exposing 
itself to ruin, since the enemy, by means of their ships, could 
suddenly unite their forces, and fall upon any point that they might 
consider weak? Such were the perplexities to which he was con- 
tinually subjected, in having, with scanty means, to provide for 



4-6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the security of a vast extent of country, and with land forces 
merely, to contend with an amphibious enemy. The Baron De 
Kalb, now at the head ot the Maryland division, was instructed 
to conduct this detachment with all haste to the aid of General 
Lincoln. He might not anive in time to prevent the fall of 
Charleston, but he might assist to arrest the progress of tlie enemy 
and save the Carohnas. 

The troops were paid in paper money at its nominal value. A 
memorial of the officers of the Jersey line to the legislature of 
their State, represented the depreciation to be so great, that four 
months' pay of a private soldier would not procure for his family 
a single bushel of wheat; the pay of a colonel would not purchase 
oats for his horse, and a common laborer or express rider could 
earn four times the pay in paper of an American officer. It was 
proposed in Congress to send a committee of three of its members 
to headquarters to consult with the commander-in-chief, and, in 
conjunction with him, to effect such reforms and changes in the 
various departments of the army as might be deemed necessary. 
Warm debates ensued. It was objected that this w^ould put too 
much power into a few hands, and especially into those of the 
commander-in-chief; "that his influence was already too great ; 
that even his virti^es afforded motives for alarni ; that the 
enthusiasm of the army, joined to the kind of dictatorship already 
confided to him, put Congress and the United States at his mercy ; 
that it was not expedient to expose a 7nan of the highest virtues 
to such temptations.''* This passage from a despatch of the 
French minister to his government, is strongly illustrative of the 
cautious jealously still existing in Congress with regard to military 
power, even though wielded by Washington. 

After a prolonged debate, a committee of three was chosen by 
ballot ; it consisted of Gen. Schuyler and Messrs. John Matthews, 
and Nathaniel Peabody. It was a great satisfaction to Washing- 
ton to have his old friend and coadjutor, Schuyler, near him in 
this capacity, in which, he declared, no man could be more useful, 
" from his perfect knowledge of the resources of the country, the 
activity of his temper, his fruitfulness of expedients, and his sound 
military sense." The committee found the disastrous state of 
affairs had not been exaggerated. For five months the army had 
been unpaid. Every department was destitute of money or credit; 
there were rarely provisions for six days in advance ; on some 
occasions the troops had been for several successive days without 
meat; there was no forage; the medical department had neither 
tea, chocolate, wine, nor spirituous liquors of any kind. "Yet the 
men," said Washington, "have borne their distress in general, 
with a firmness and patience never exceeded, and every com- 
mendation is due to the officers for encouraging them to it by 
exhortation and example." We have it from another authority, 
that many officers for some time lived on bread and cheese, rather 
than take any of the scanty allowance of meat from the men. 
To soothe the discontents of the army, Congress engaged to make 
^ood to the Continental and the independent troops the difference 



1780.] FRANCE TO SEND EFFECTUAL AID. 427 

in the value of their pay caused by depreciation of the currency ; 
and that all moneys or other articles heretofore received by them, 
should be considered as advanced on account, and comprehended 
at their just value in the final settlement. 

At this gloomy crisis came a letter from the Marquis de Lafayette, 
dated April 27th, announcing his arrival at Boston. Washington's 
eyes, we are told, were suffused with tears as he read this most 
welcome epistle. The marquis arrived safe at headquarters on 
the 1 2th or May, where he was welcomed with acclamations, for 
he was popular with both officers and soldiers. Washington 
folded him in his arms in a truly paternal embrace, and they were 
soon closeted together to talk over the state of affairs, when Lafay- 
ette made known the result of his visit to France. His generous 
efforts at court had been crowned with success, and he brought 
the animating intelligence that a French fleet, under the Chevaher 
de Ternay, was to put to sea early in April, bringing a body of 
troops under the Count de Rochambeau, and might soon be 
expected on the coast to cooperate with the American forces. 
Remaining but a single day at headquarters, he hastened on to 
the seat of government, where he met the reception which his 
generous enthusiasm in the cause of American Independence had 
so fully merited. The whole effective land force of the enemy 
at New York, was about eight thousand regulars and four thousand 
refugees. Their naval force consisted of one seventy-four gun 
ship, and three or four small frigates. In this situation of affairs 
the French fleet might enter the harbor and gain possession of it 
without difficulty, cut off its communications, and, with the 
cooperation of the American army, oblige the city to capitulate. 
Washington advised Lafayette, therefore, to write to the French 
commanders, urging them, on their arrival on the coast, to pro- 
ceed with their land and naval forces, with all expedition, to Sandy 
Hook, and there await further advices ; should they learn, how- 
ever, that the expedition under Sir Henry Clinton had returned 
from the south to New York, they were to proceed to Rhode Island. 
The army with which Washington was to cooperate in the projected 
attack upon New York, was so reduced by the departure of troops 
whose term had expired, and the tardiness in furnishing recruits, 
that it did not amount quite to four thousand rank and file, fit for 
duty. A long interval of scarcity and several days of actual 
famine, brought matters to a crisis. On the 25th of May, in the 
dusk of the evening, two regiments of the Connecticut line assem- 
bled on their parade by beat of drum, and declared their intention 
to march home bag and baggage, " or, at best, to gain subsistence 
at the point of the bayonet." Col. Meigs, while endeavoring to 
suppress the mutiny, was struck by one of the soldiers. Some 
officers of the Pennsylvania line came to his assistance, parading 
their regiments. Every argument and expostulation was used with 
the mutineers. They were reminded of their past good conduct, 
of the noble objects for which they were contending, and of the 
future indemnifications promised by Congress. It was with diffi- 
culty they could be prevailed upon to return to their huts. Indeed, 



428 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

a few turned out a second time, with their packs, and were not to 
be pacified. These were arrested and confined. This mutiny, 
Washington declared, had given him infinitely more concern than 
any thing that had ever happened, especially as he had no means 
of paying the troops excepting in Continental money, which, said 
he "is evidently impracticable from the immense quantity it would 
require to pay them as much as would make up the depreciation." 
He looked round anxiously for bread for his famishing troops. 
New York, Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Maryland, were what he 
termed his "flour country." Virginia was sufficiently tasked to 
supply the South. New York, by legislative coercion, had already 
given all that she could spare from the subsistence of her inhabi- 
tants. Jersey was exhausted by the long residence of the army. 
Maryland had made great exertions, and might still do something 
more, and Delaware might contribute handsomely, in proportion 
to her extent: but Pennsylvania was now the chief dependence, 
for that State was represented to be full of flour. Washington 
■wrote earnestly to President Reed and his letter procured relief for 
tlie army from the legislature, and a resolve empowering the 
president and council, during its recess, to declare martial law, 
should circumstances render it expedient. "This," observes 
Reed, "gives us a power of doing what may be necessary without 
attending to the ordinary course of the law, and we shall endeavor 
to exercise it with prudence and moderation." 



CHAPTER XVni. 

THE WAR IN THE SOUTH. 

Several days elapsed before the British ships before Charleston 
were able, by taking out their guns, provisions, and water, and 
availing themselves of wind and tide, to pass the bar. They did 
so on the 20th of March, with but slight opposition from several 
galleys. Commodore Whipple, then, seeing the vast superiority 
of their force, made a second retrograde move, stationing some of 
his ships in Cooper River, and sinking the rest at its mouth so as 
to prevent the enemy from running up the river, and cutting off 
communication with the country on the east : the crews and heavy 
cannon were landed to aid in the defence of the town. The rein- 
forcements which Sir Henry Clinton had ordered from Savannah 
were marching toward the Cambayee under Brig.-Gen. Patterson. 
On his flank moved Major Ferguson with a corps of riflemen, and 
Major Cochrane with the infantry of the British legion. It was a toil- 
some march, through swamps and difficult passes. Being arrived 
in the neighborhood of Port Royal, where Tarleton had succeeded, 
though indifferently, in remounting his dragoons, Patterson sent 
orders to that officer to join him. 

Tarleton had soon to encounter a worthy antagonist in Colonel 
William Washington, the same cavalry officer who had distin- 



l78o.] CHARLESTON CAPITULATES, 429 

guished himself at Trenton, and was destined to distinguish himself 
still more in this Southern campaign. He is described as being six 
feet in height, broad, stout and corpulent. Bold in the field, care- 
less in the camp; kind to his soldiers; harassing to his enemies; 
gay and good-humored; with an upright heart and a generous 
hand, a universal favorite. He was now at the head of a body of 
Continental cavalry, consisting of his own and Bland's light-horse, 
and Pulaski's hussars, A brush took place in the neighborhood of 
Rantoul's Bridge. Col. Washington had the advantage, took sev- 
eral prisoners, and drove back the dragoons of the British legion, 
but durst not pursue them for want of infantry. On the 7th of 
April, Brigadier-general Woodford with seven hundred Virginia 
troops, after a forced march of five hundred miles in thirty days, 
crossed from the east side of Cooper River, by the only passage 
now open, and threw himself into Charleston. It was a timely 
reinforcement, for the garrison, when i'h greatest force, amounted 
to little more than two thousand regulars and one thousand North 
Carolina militia. About the same time Admiral ArT^uthnot, in the 
Roebuck, passed Sullivan's Island, with a fresh southerly breeze, 
at the head of a squadron of seven armed vessels and two trans- 
ports. Col. Pinckney opened a heavy cannonade from the batter- 
ies of Fort Moultrie. The ships thundered in reply, and clouds of 
smoke were raised, under the cover of which^ they slipped by, with 
no greater loss than twenty-seven men killed and wounded, and 
took a position near Fort Johnson, just without the range of the 
shot from the American batteries. Col. Pinckney and a part of 
the garrison then withdrew from Fort Moultrie. The enemy had 
by this time completed his first parallel, and the town being almost 
entirely invested by sea and land, received a joint summons from 
the British general and admiral to surrender. " Sixty days have 
passed," writes Lincoln in reply, '* since it has been known that 
your intentions against this town were hostile, in which time has 
been afforded to abandon it, but duty and inclination point to the 
propriety of supporting it to the last extremity." The British bat- 
teries were now opened. The siege was carried on deliberately by 
regular parallels, and on a scale of magnitude scarcely warranted 
by the moderate strength of the place. The arrival of a reinforce- 
ment of three thousand men from New York enabled Clinton to 
throw a powerful detachment, under Lord Cornwallis, to the east 
of Cooper River, to complete the investment of the town and cut off 
all retreat. Fort Moultrie surrendered. The batteries of the third 
parallel were opened upon the town. They were so near, that the 
Hessian yagers, or sharp-shooters, could pick off the garrison while 
at their guns or on the parapets. This fire was kept up for two 
days. The besiegers crossed the canal; pushed a double sap to the 
inside of the abatis, and prepared to make an assault by sea and 
land. All hopes of a successful defence were at an end. The 
works were in ruins; the guns almost all dismounted; the garrison 
exhausted with fatigue, and provisions nearly consumed. The 
terms which had already been offered and rejected, were still 
granted, and the capitulation was signed on the 12th of May. The 



430 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

garrison were allowed some of the honors of war. They were to 
march out and deposit their arms between the canal and the works, 
but the drums were not to beat a British march nor the colors to 
be uncased. The Continental troops and seamen were to be 
allowed their baggage, but were to remain prisoners of war. The 
ofificers of the army and navy were to retain their servants, swords 
and pistols, and their baggage unsearched; and were permitted to 
sell their horses ; but not to remove them out of the town. The 
citizens and the militia were to be considered prisoners on parole ; 
the latter to be permitted to return home, and both to be protected 
in person and property as long as they kept their parole. The loss 
of the British in the siege was seventy-six killed and one hundred 
and eighty-nine wounded ; that of the Americans nearly the same. 
The prisoners taken by the enemy, exclusive of the sailors, 
amounted to five thousand six hundred and eighteen men ; com- 
jDrising every male adult in the city. The Continental troops did 
not exceed two thousand, five hundred of whom were in the hos- 
pital. Sir Henry considered the fall of Charleston decisive of the 
fate of South Carolina. To complete the subjugation of the coun- 
try, he planned three expedidons into the interior. One, under 
Lieut.-Col. Brown, Avas to move up the Savannah River to 
Augusta, on the borders of Georgia. Another, under Lieut.-Col. 
Cruger, was to proceed up the southwest side of the Santee River 
to the district of Ninety-Six, a fertile and salubrious region, 
between the Savannah and the Saluda rivers : while a third, under 
Cornwallis, was to cross the Santee, march up the northeast bank, 
and strike at a corps of troops under Col. Buford, which had 
arrived too late for the relief of Charleston, and was now making 
a retrograde move. As Buford was moving with celerity, and had 
the advantage of distance, Cornwallis detached Tarleton in pur- 
suit of him, with one hundred and seventy dragoons, a hundred 
mounted infantry, and a three-pounder. The bold partisan pushed 
forward with his usual ardor and rapidity. The weather was sultry, 
many of his horses gave out through fatigue and heat ; he pressed 
others by the way, leaving behind such of his troops as could not 
keep pace with him. He was anxious to overtake Buford before 
he could form a junction with the force he was seeking, and came 
upon his rear-guard about three o'clock in the afternoon, and cap- 
tured a sergeant and four dragoons. Buford had not expected so 
prompt an appearance of the enemy. He hastily drew up his 
men in order of battle, in an open wood, on the right of the road. 
His artillery and wagons, which were in the advance, escorted by 
part of his infantry, were ordered to continue on their march. 
There appears to have been some confusion on the part of the 
Americans, and they had an impetuous foe to deal with. Before 
they Avere well prepared for action they were attacked in front and 
on both flanks by cavalry and mounted infantry. It was not until 
the latter were within ten yards that there was a partial discharge 
of musketry. Several of the dragoons suffered by this fire. Tarle* 
ton himself was unhorsed, but his troopers rode on. The American 
battalion was broken ; most of the men threw down their arms 



l78o.] HOSTILITIES IN NEW JERSEY. 431 

and begged for quarter, but were cut down without mercy. One 
hundred and thirteen were slain on the spot, and one hundred and 
fifty so mangled and maimed that they could not be removed. 
Col. Buford and a {^vt of the cavalry escaped, as did about a hun- 
dred of the infantry, who were with the baggage in the advance. 
The whole British loss was two officers and three privates killed, 
and one officer and fourteen privates wounded. The two other 
detachments which had been sent out by Clinton, met with nothing 
but submission. The people in general, considering resistance 
hopeless, accepted the proffered protection, and conformed to its 
humiliating terms. The negroes seem to have regarded the invad- 
ers as deliverers. They quitted the plantations and followed the 
army. Sir Henry now persuaded himself that South Carohna was 
subdued, and proceeded to station garrisons in various parts, to 
maintain it in subjection. He issued a proclamation on the 3d of 
June, discharging all the military prisoners from their paroles after 
the 20th of the month, excepting those captured in Fort Moultrie 
and Charleston. All thus released from their parole were rein- 
stated in the rights and duties of British subjects; but, at the same 
time, they were bound to take an active part in support of the 
government hitherto opposed by them. All who should neglect to 
return to their allegiance, or should refuse to take up arms against 
the independence of their country, were to be considered as rebels 
and treated accordingly. Having struck a blow, which, as he 
conceived, was to ensure the subjugation of the South, Sir Henry 
embarked for New York on the 5th of June, with a part of his 
farces, leaving the residue under the command of Lord Cornwal- 
lis, who was to carry the war into North Carolina, and thence into 
Virginia, 



CHAPTER XIX. 

HOSTILITIES IN THE EAST. 

A HANDBILL published by the British authorities in New York, 
reached Washington's camp on the ist of June, and made known 
the surrender of Charleston. Knyphausen, through spies and 
emissaries, had received exaggerated accounts of the recent out- 
break in Washington's camp, and of the general discontent 
among the people of New Jersey; and was persuaded that a 
sudden show of miUtary protection, following up the news of the 
capture of Charleston, would produce a general desertion among 
the troops, and rally back the inhabitants of the Jerseys to their 
allegiance to the crown. In this belief he projected a descent 
into the Jerseys with about five thousand men, and some light 
artillery, who were to cross in divisions in the night of the 5th 
of June from Staten Island to Elizabethtown Point. The first 
division, led by Brig. -Gen. Sterling, landed before dawn on the 
6th, and advanced as silently as possible. The heavy and 



432 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

measured tramp of the troops, however, caught the ear of an 
American sentinel stationed at a fork where the roads from the 
old and new point joined. He challenged the dimly descried 
mass as it approached, and receiving no answer, fired into it. 
That shot wounded Gen. Sterling in the thigh, and ultimately- 
proved mortal. The wounded general was carried back, and 
Knyphausen took his place. This delayed the march until sun- 
rise, and gave time for the troops of the Jersey line, under Col. 
Elias Dayton, stationed in Elizabethtown, to assemble. They 
were too weak in numbers, however, to withstand the enemy, 
but retreated in good order, skirmishing occasionally. Signal 
guns and signal fires were rousing the country. The militia and 
yeomanry armed themselves with such weapons as were at hand, 
and hastened to their alarm posts. The enemy took the old 
road, by what was called Galloping Hill, towards the village of 
Connecticut Farms ; fired upon from behind walls and thickets by 
the hasty levies of the country. At Connecticut Farms, the 
retreating troops under Dayton fell in with the Jersey brigade, 
under Gen. Maxwell, and a few mihtia joining them, the Ameri- 
cans were enabled to make some stand, and even to hold the 
enemy in check. The latter, however, brought up several field 
pieces, and being reinforced by a second division which had 
crossed from Staten Island some time after the first, compelled the 
Americans again to retreat. Some of the enemy pretending that 
the inhabitants had fired upon them from their windows, began 
to pillage and set fire to the houses. It so happened that to this 
village the Rev. James Caldwell, " the rousing gospel preacher," 
had removed his family as to a place of safety, after his church at 
Elizabethtown had been burnt down by the British in January. On 
the present occasion he had retreated with the regiment to 
which he was chaplain. His Avife, however, remained at the par- 
sonage with her two youngest children, confiding in the protection 
of Providence, and the humanity of the enemy. When the sack- 
ing of the village took place, she retired with her children into a 
back room of the house. Her infant of eight months was in the 
arms of an attendant; she herself was seated on the side of a bed 
holding a child of three years by the hand, and was engaged in 
prayer. All was terror and confusion in the village; when sud- 
denly a musket was discharged in at the window. Two balls 
struck her in the breast, and she fell dead on the floor. The par- 
sonage and church were set on fire, and it was with difficulty her 
body was rescued from the flames. In the mean time Knyphausen 
was pressing on with his main forc^e towards Morristown. The 
booming of alarm guns had roused the country; every valley 
was pouring out its yeomanry, Two thousand were said to be 
already in arms below the mountains. Morristown had been 
made the American rallying-point. It stands at the foot of what 
are called the Short Hills, on the west side of Railway River, 
which runs in front of it. On the bank of the river, Gen. Max- 
well's Jersey brigade and the militia of the neighborhood weie 
drawn up to dispute the passage; and on the Short Hills in the 



l78o.] WATTS USED FOR WADDING. 433 

rear was Washington with the main body of his forces, strongly 
posted, and ready for action. All night his camp fires lighted 
up the Short Hills, and he remained on the alert expecting to be 
assailed in the morning; but in the morning no enemy was to be 
seen. Knyphausen had experienced enough to convince him that 
he had been completely misinformed as to the disposition of the 
Jersey people and of the army. Disappointed as to the main 
objects of his enterprise, he had retreated under the cover of the 
night, to the place of his debarkation, intending to recross to 
Staten Island immediately. In the camp at the Short HjUs was 
Rev. James Caldwell, whose home had been laid desolate. He 
was still ignorant of the event, but had passed a night of great 
anxiety, and, procuring the protection of a flag, hastened back in 
the morning to Connecticut Farms. He found the village in ashes, 
and his wife a mangled corpse! The tragical fate of Mrs. Cald- 
well produced almost as much excitement throughout the country 
as that which had been caused in a preceding year, by the massa- 
cre of Miss McCrea. She was connected with some of the first 
people of New Jersey ; was winning in person and character, and 
universally beloved. 

On the 17th of June the fleet from the South arrived in the bay 
of New York, and Sir Henry Chnton landed his troops on Staten 
Island, but almost immediately reembarked them ; as if meditat- 
ing an expedition up the river. Fearing for the safety of West 
Point, Washington set off on the 21st June, with the main body 
of his troops, towards Pompton ; while Gen. Greene, with Max- 
well and Stark's brigades, Lee's dragoons and the militia of the 
neighborhood, remained encamped on the Short Hills, to cover 
the country and protect the stores at Morristown. Washington's 
movements were slow and wary. At Rockaway Bridge, about 
eleven miles beyond Morristown. he received word on the 23d, 
that the enemy were advacing from Elizabethtown against Spring- 
field. The reembarkation of the troops at Staten Island had been 
a stratagem of Sir Henry Clinton to divert the attention of Wash- 
ington, and enable Knyphausen to carry out the enterprise which 
had hitherto hung fire. No sooner did the latter ascertain that the 
American commander-in-chief had moved off with his main force 
towards the Highlands, than he sallied from Elizabethtown five 
thousand strong, with a large body of cavalry, and fifteen or 
twenty pieces of artillery ; hoping not merely to destroy the public 
stores at Morristown, but to get possession of those difficult hills 
and defiles, among which Washington's army had been so securely 
posted, and which constituted the strength of that part of the 
country. Early on the morning of the 23d Knyphausen pushed 
forward towards Springfield. Beside the main road which passes 
directly through the village towards Morristown, there is another, 
north of it, called the Vauxhall road, crossing several small 
streams, the confluence of which forms the Rahway. These two 
roads unite beyond the village in the principal pass of the Short 
Hills. The enemy's troops advanced rapidly in two compact 
columns, the right one by the Vauxhall road, the other, by the 



434 UFE OF WASHINGTON. 

main or direct road. Gen. Greene was stationed among the Short 
Hills, about a mile above the town. At five o'clock in the morn- 
ing, signal-guns gave notice of the approach of the enemy. The 
drums beat to arms throughout the camp. The troops were hasti- 
ly called in from their posts among the mountain passes, and 
preparations were made to defend the village. There was some 
sharp fighting at a bridge on the Vauxhall road, where Major Lee 
with his dragoons and picket-guard held the right column at bay; 
a part of the column, however, forded the stream above the 
bridge, gained a commanding position, and obliged Lee to retire. 
The left column met with similar opposition from Dayton and his 
Jersey regiment. None showed more ardor in the fight than Cald- 
well the chaplain. The image of his murdered wife was before 
his eyes. Finding the men in want of wadding, he galloped to 
the Presbyterian church and brought thence a quantity of Watts' 
psalm and hymn books, which he distributed for the purpose 
among the soldiers. "Now," cried he, "put Watts into them, 
boys! " The severest fighting of the day was at the bridge over 
the Rahway. For upwards of half an hour Col. Angel defended 
it with his handful of men against a vastly superior force. One 
fourth of his men were either killed or disabled : the loss of the 
enemy was still more severe. Angel was at length compelled to 
retire. He did so in good order, carrying off his wounded, and 
making his way through the village to the bridge beyond it. Here 
his retreat was bravely covered by Col. Shreve, but he too was 
obliged to give way before the overwhelming force of the enemy, 
and join the brigades of Maxwell and Stark upon the hill. Gen. 
Greene, finding his front too much extended for his small force, 
and that he was in danger of being outflanked on the left by the 
column pressing forward on the Vauxhall road, took post with his 
main body on the first range of hills, where the roads were brought 
near to a point, and passed between him and the height occupied 
by Stark and Maxwell. He then threw out a detachment which 
checked the further advance of the right column of the enemy 
along the Vauxhall road, and secured that pass through the Short 
Hills. The resistance already experienced, especially at the 
bridge, and the sight of militia gathering from various points, 
dampened the ardor of the hostile commander. Before the brigade 
detached by Washington arrived at the scene of action, the enemy 
had retreated, after wreaking upon Springfield the same vengeance 
they had inflicted on Connecticut Farms. The whole village, 
excepting four houses, was reduced to ashes. Their second retreat 
was equally ignoble with their first. They were pursued and 
harassed the whole way to Elizabethtown by light scouting parties 
and by the militia and yeomanry of the country, exasperated by 
the sight of the burning village. Lee, too, came upon their rear- 
guard with his dragoons ; captured a quantity of stores abandoned 
by them in the hurry of retreat, and made prisoners of several 
refugees. During the night the enemy passed over to Staten 
Island by their bridge of boats. By six o'clock in the morning all 
had crossed, and the State of New Jersey, so long harassed by the 



1780.] FRENCH TROOPS AND SHIPS ARRIVE. 435 

campaignings of either army, was finally evacuated by the enemy. 
It had proved a school of war to the American troops. The 
incessant marchings and counter-marchings ; the rude encamp- 
ments; the exposures to all kinds of hardship and privation ; the 
alarms; the stratagems; the rough encounters and adventurous 
enterprises of which this had been the theatre for the last three or 
four years, had rendered the patriot soldier hardy, adroit, and 
long-suffering; had accustomed him to danger, inured him to 
discipline, and brought him nearly on a level with the European 
mercenary in the habitudes and usages of arms, while he had the 
superior incitements of home, country, and independence. The 
ravaging incursions of the enemy had exasperated the most peace- 
loving parts of the country ; made soldiers of husbandmen, 
acquainted them with their own powers, and taught them that the 
foe was vulnerable. The recent ineffectual attempts of a veteran 
general to penetrate the fastnesses of Morristown, though at the 
head of a veteran force, "which would once have been deemed 
capable of sweeping the whole continent before it," was a lasting 
theme of triumph to the inhabitants ; and it is still the honest 
boast among the people of Morris County, that •' the enemy never 
were able to get a footing among our hills." At the same time 
the conflagration of villages, by which they sought to cover or 
revenge their repeated failures, and their precipitate retreat, 
harassed and insulted by half-disciplined militia, and a crude, 
rustic levy, formed an ignominious close to the British campaign 
in the Jerseys. 

Circumstances soon convinced Washington that the enemy had 
no present intention of attacking West Point, but merely menaced 
him at various points, to retard his operations, and oblige him to 
call out the mihtia ; thereby interrupting agriculture, distressing 
the country, and rendering his cause unpopular. He now exerted 
himself to the utmost to procure from the different State Legisla- 
tures, their quotas and supplies for the regular army. Liberal 
contributions were made by individuals ; a bank was established 
by the inhabitants of Philadelphia to facihtate the supplies of the 
army, and an association of ladies of that city raised by subscrip- 
tion between seven and eight thousand dollars, which were put at 
the disposition of Washington. 

On the loth of July a French fleet, under the Chevalier de 
Ternay, arrived at Newport, in Rhode Island. It was composed 
of seven ships of the line, two frigates and two bombs, and con- 
voyed transports on board of which were upwards of five thousand 
h'oops. This was the first division of the forces promised by 
France, of which Lafayette had spoken. The second division 
had been detained at Brest for want of transports, but might soon 
be expected. The Count de Rochambeau, Lieutenant-general of 
fhe royal armies, was commander-in-chief of this auxiliary force. 
He was a veteran, fifty-five years of age, who had early distin- 
guished himself, when colonel of the regiment of Auvergne, and 
had gained laurels in various battles, especially that of Kloster 
camp, of which he decided the success. Since then, he had risen 



446 LIFE OF WASHING FOX. 

from one post of honor to another, until intrusted uith his present 
important command. Another officer of rank and distinction in 
this force, was Major-general the Marquis de Chastellux, a friend 
and relative of Lafayette, but much his senior, being now forty- 
six years of age. The troops were landed to the east of the town; 
their encampment was on a fine situation, and extended nearly 
across the island. Much was said of their gallant and martial 
appearance. There was the noted regiment of Auvergne, in com- 
mand of which the Count de Rochambeau had first gained his 
laurels, but which was now commanded by his son the viscount, 
thirty years of age. A legion of six hundred men also was espe- 
cially admired; it was commanded by the Duke de Lauzun 
(Lauzun-Biron), who had gained reputation in the preceding year 
by the capture of Senegal. It was remarkable how soon the 
French accommodated themselves to circumstances, made light 
of all the privations and inconveniences of a new country, and 
conformed to tlie familiar simplicity of republican manners. Gen. 
Heath, who, by Washington's orders, was there to offer his 
services, was, by his own account, "charmed with the officers." 
The instructions of the French ministry to the Count de Rocham> 
beau placed him entirely under the command of General Wash- 
ington. The French troops were to be considered as auxiliaries, 
and as such were to take the left of the American troops, and. in 
all cases of ceremony, to yield them the preference. This con- 
siderate arrangement had been adopted at the suggestion of the 
Marquis de Lafayette, and was intended to prevent the recurrence 
of those questions of rank and etiquette which had heretofore dis- 
turbed the combined service. Washington, in general orders, 
congratulated the army on the arrival of this timely and generous 
succor, which he hailed as a new tie between France and America; 
anticipating that the only contention between the two armies would 
be to excel each other in good offices, and in the display of every 
military virtue. The American cockade had hitherto been black, 
that of the French was white ; he recommended to his officers a 
cockade of black and white intermingled in compliment to their 
allies, and as a symbol of friendship and union. 

The arrival of the British Admiral Graves, at New York, on the 
13th of July, with six ships-of-the-line, gave the enemy such a super- 
iority of naval force, that the design on New York was postponed 
until the second French division should make its appearance. In 
the mean time, Sir Henry Clinton determined to forestall the 
meditated attack upon New York, by beating up the French 
quarters on Rhode Island. He proceeded with his troops to 
Throg's Neck on the Sound. Washington crossed the Hudson to 
Peekskill, and prepared to move towards King's Bridge, with the 
main body of his troops, which had recently been reinforced. His in- 
tention was, either to oblige Sir Henry to abandon his project 
against Rhode Island, or to strike a blow at New York during his 
absence. As Washington was on horseback, observmg the cross- 
ing of the last division of his troops. Gen. Arnold approached, 
having just arrived in the camp. He had been manoeuvring of late 



1 ySo. ] CO VENANTERS IN NOR TH CAR OLINA. 43 7 

to get the command of West Point. He now inquired whether any 
place had been assigned to him. He was told that he was to com- 
mand the left wing. The silence and evident chagrin with which 
the reply was received surprised Washington, and he was still more 
surprised when he subsequently learned that Arnold was more 
desirous of a garrison post than of a command in the field, his ex- 
cuse being that his wounded leg unfitted him for action either on 
foot or horseback ; but that at West Point he might render himself 
useful. 

Sir Henry heard of the sudden move of Washington, and learned, 
moreover, that the position of the French at Newport had been 
strengthened by the militia from the neighboring country. These 
tidings disconcerted his plans. He left Admiral Arbuthnot to 
proceed with his squardron to Newport, blockade the French fleet, 
and endeavor to intercept the second division, supposed to be on 
its way, while he with his troops hastened back to New York. 
Washington again withdrew his forces to the west side of the 
Hudson ; first establishing a post and throwing up small works at 
Dobos' Ferry, about ten miles above King's Bridge, to secure a 
communication across the river for the transportation of troops 
and ordnance, should the design upon New York be prosecuted. 

Arnold now received the important command which he had so 
earnestly coveted. It included the fortvess at West Point and the 
posts from Fishkill to King's Ferry, together with the corps of in- 
fantry and cavalry advanced towards the enemy's line on the east 
side of the river. He was ordered to have the works at the Point 
completed as expeditiously as possible, and to keep all his posts on 
their guard against surprise. Washington took post at Orangetown 
or Tappan, on the borders of the Jerseys, and opposite to Dobbs* 
Ferry, to be at hand for any attempt upon New York. 

Lord Cornwallis, when left in military command at the South by 
Sir Henry Clinton, was charged with the invasion of North Caro- 
lina. It was an enterprise in which much difficulty was to be appre- 
hended, both from the character of the people and the country. 
The original settlers were from various parts, most of them men 
who had experienced political or religious oppression, and had 
brought with them a quick sensibility to wrong, a stern apprecia- 
tion of their rights, and an indomitable spirit of freedom and inde- 
pendence. In the heart of the State was a hardy Presbyterian 
stock, the Scotch Irish, as they were called, having emigrated from 
Scotland to Ireland, and thence to America ; and who were said 
to possess the impulsiveness of the Irishman, with the dogged 
resolution of the Covenanter. The early history of the colony 
abounds with instances of this spirit among its people. "They 
always behaved insolently to their governors," complains Gov. 
Barrington in 1731 ; "some they have driven out of the country — • 
at other times they set up a government of their own choice, sup- 
ported by men under arms." It was in fact the spirit of popular lib- 
erty and self-government which stirred within them, and gave birth 
to the glorious axiom: "the rights of the many against the ex- 
actions of the few. ' ' Sq ripe was this spirit at an early day, that when 



438 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the boundary line was run, in 1727, betAveen North Carolina and 
Virginia, the borderers were eager to be included within the 
former province, " as there they payed no tribute to God or Caesar." 
It was this spirit which gave rise to the confederacy, called the 
"Regulation," formed to withstand the abuses of power; and the 
first blood shed in our country, in resistance to arbitrary taxation, 
was at Almance in this province, in a conflict between the Regula- 
tors and Governor Tryon. Above all, it should never be forgotten, 
that at Mecklenburg, in the heart of North Carolina, was fulmin- 
ated the first declaration of independence of the British crown, up- 
wards of a year before a hke declaration by Congress. A popula- 
tion so characterized presented formidable difficulties to the invader. 
The physical difficulties arising from the nature of the country con- 
sisted in its mountain fastnesses in the northwestern part, its vast 
forests, its sterile tracts, its long rivers, destitute of bridges, and 
which, though fordable in fair weather, were liable to be swollen 
by sudden storms and freshets, and rendered deep, turbulent and 
impassable. These rivers, in fact, which rushed down from the 
mountain, but wound sluggishly through the plains, were the 
military strength of the country. Lord Cornwalhs disposed of his 
troops in cantonments, to cover the frontiers of South Carohna and 
Georgia, and maintain their internal quiet. The command was given 
to Lord Rawdon, who made Camden his principal post. This 
town, the capital of Kershaw District, a fertile, fruitful country, was 
situated on the cast bank of the Waterce River, on the road lead- 
ing to North Carolina. Cornwallis set up his headquarters at 
Charleston. The proclamation of Sir Henry Clinton, putting an 
end to all neutrality, and the rigorous penalties and persecutions 
with which all infractions of its terms were punished, had for a time 
quelled the spirit of the countr)\ By degrees, however, the dread 
of British power gave way to impatience of British exactions. Symp- 
toms of revolt manifested themselves in various parts. They were 
encouraged by intelligence that De Kalb, sent by Washington, 
was advancing through North Carolina at the head of two thousand 
men, and that the militia of that State and of Virginia were joining 
Lis standard. This was soon followed by tidings that Gates, the 
conqueror of Burgoyne, was on his way to take command of the 
Southern forces. The prospect of such aid from the North reani- 
mated the Southern pariots. One of the most eminent of these was 
Thomas Sumter, whom the Carolinas had surnamed the Game 
Cock. He was between forty and fifty years of age, brave, hardy, 
vigorous, resolute. He had served against the Indians in his boy- 
hood, during the old French war, and had been present at the 
defeat of Braddock. In the present war he still had held the rank of 
lieutenant-colonel of riflemen in the Continental line. After the 
fall of Charleston, when patriots took refuge in contiguous States, 
or in the natural fastnesses of the country, he had retired with his 
family into one of the latter. The lower part of South Carolina for 
upwards of a hundred miles back from the sea is a level country, 
abounding with swamps, locked up in the windings of the rivers 
which flow down from the Appalachian Mountains. Some of these 



1780. 1 THOMAS SUMTER THE GAME COCK, 439 

swamps are mere canebrakes, of little use until subdued by cul- 
tivation, when they yield abundant crops of rice. Others are 
covered with forests of cypress, cedar and laurel, green all the year 
and odoriferous, but tangled with vines and almost impenetrable. 
In their bosoms, however, are fine savannahs ; natural lawns, open 
to cultivation, and yielding abundant pasturage. It requires local 
knowledge, however, to penetrate these wildernesses, and hence 
they form strongholds to the people of the country. In one of these 
natural fastnesses, on the borders of the Santee, Sumter had taken up 
his residence, and hence he would sally forth in various directions. 
During a temporary absence his retreat had been invaded, his 
house burnt to the ground, his wife and children driven forth with- 
out shelter. Private injury had thus been added to the incentives 
of patriotism. Emerging from his hiding-place, he had thrown 
himself among a handful of his fellow-sufferers who had taken 
refuge in North Carolina. They chose him at once as a leader, and 
resolved on a desperate struggle for the deliverance of their native 
State. Destitute of regular weapons, they forged rude substitutes 
out of the implements of husbandry. Old mill-saws were converted 
into broad-swards ; knives at the ends of poles served for lances ; 
while the country housewives gladly gave up their pewter dishes 
and other utensils, to be melted down and cast into bullets for such 
as had firearms. When Sumter led this gallant band of exiles 
over the border, they did not amount in number to two hundred ; 
yet, with these, he attacked and routed a well-armed body of British 
troops and tories, the terror of the frontier. His followers supplied 
themselves with weapons from the slain. In a little while his band 
was augmented by recruits. Parties of militia, also, recently em- 
bodied under the compelling measures of Cornwallis, deserted to 
the patriot standard. Thus reinforced to the amount of six 
hundred men, he made, on the 30th of July, a spirited attack on 
the British post at Rocky Mount, near the Catawba, but was 
repulsed. A more successful attack was made by him, eight days 
afterwards, on another post at Hanging Rock. The Prince of 
Wales regiment which defended it was nearly annihilated, and a 
large body of North Carohna loyalists, under Col. Brian, was 
routed and dispersed. The gallant exploits of Sumter were emul- 
ated in other parts of the country, and the partisan war thus com- 
menced was carried on wdth an audacity that soon obliged the 
enemy to call in their outposts, and collect their troops in large 
masses. The advance of De Kalb with reinforcements from the 
North, had been retarded by various difficulties, the most important 
of which was want of provisions. There was no flour in the camp, 
nor were dispositions made to furnish any. His troops were re- 
duced for a time to short allowance, and at length, on the 6th of 
July, brought to a positive halt at Deep River. For three weeks 
he remained in this encampment, foraging an exhausted country 
for a meager subsistence, and was thinking of deviating to the 
right, and seeking the fertile counties of Mecklenburg and Rowan, 
when, on the 25th of July, Gen. Gates arrived at the camp. He 
approved of De Kalb's standing orders, but at the first review of 



440 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the troops, to the great astonishment of the baron, gave orders for 
them to hold themselves in readiness to vi\?ixc\). 2Xz. moment" s warn- 
ing. It was in vain their destitute situation was represented to him, 
and that they had not a day's provision in advance. His reply 
was, that wagons laden with supplies were coming on, and would 
overtake them in two days. On the 27th, he actually.put the army 
in motion over the Buffalo Ford, on the direct road to Camden, 
though warned of the sterile nature of that route. He persisted, 
observing that he should the sooner form a junction with Caswell 
and the North Carolina militia ; and as to the sterility of the coun- 
try, his supplies would soon overtake him. The route led through a 
region of pine barrens, sand hills and swamps, with few human hab- 
itations, and those mostly deserted. The supplies of which he had 
spoken never overtook him. His army had to subsist itself on lean 
cattle, roaming almost wild in the woods; and to supply the want 
of bread with green Indian corn, unripe apples, and peaches. The 
consequence was, a distressing prevalence of dysentery. Having 
crossed the Pedee River on the 3d of August, the army was joined 
by a handful of brave Virginia regulars, under Lieut.-Col. Porter- 
field, who had been wandering about the country since the disas- 
ter of Charleston ; and, on the 7th, the much-desired junction took 
place with the North Carolina militia. On the 13th they encamped 
at Rugeley's l\Iills, otherwise called Clermont, about twelve miles 
from Camden, and on the following day were reinforced by a bri- 
gade of seven hundred Virginia mihtia, under Gen. Stevens. On 
the approach of Gates, Lord Rawdon had concentrated his forces 
at Camden. The post was flanked by the Wateree River and Pine- 
tree Creek, and strengthened with redoubts. Lord CornwalHs had 
hastened hither from Charleston and arrived on the 13th. The 
British effective force thus collected was something more than two- 
thousand, including officers. The forces under Gates, accord- 
ing to the return of his adjutant-general, were three thou- 
sand and fifty-two fit for duty ; more than two-thirds of them, 
however, were militia. On the 14th, he received an express 
from Gen. Sumter, who, with his partisan corps, after haras- 
sing the enemy at various points, was now endeavoring to cut 
off their supplies from Charleston. The object of the express 
was to ask a reinforcement of regulars to aid him in 
capturing a large convoy of clothing, ammunition and stores, on 
its way to the garrison, and which would pass Wateree Ferry, 
about a mile from Camden. Gates accordingly detached Col. 
Woodford of the Maryland hne, with one hundred regulars, a party 
of artillery, and two brass field-pieces. On the same evening he 
moved with his main force to take post at a deep stream about 
seven miles from Camden, intending to attack Lord Rawdon or his 
redoubts should he march out in force to repel Sumter. Cornwallis 
on the very same evening sallied forth from Camden to attack the 
American camp at Clermont. About two o'clock at night, the two 
forces blundered, as it were, on each other about half way. A 
skirmish took place between their advanced guards, in which 
Porterfield of the Virginia regulars was mortally wounded. Gates 



lySo.] BATTLE OF CAMDEN. 441 

was astounded that the enemy at hand was Cornwallis with three 
thousand men. At daybreak (Aug. i6th), the enemy were dimly 
descried advancing in column. Gates ordered that Stevens should 
advance briskly with his brigade of Virginia militia and attack 
them, but the right" wing of the enemy was already in line. A few 
sharp-shooters were detached to run forward, post themselves be- 
hind trees within forty or fifty yards of the enemy to extort their fire 
while at a distance, and render it less terrible to the mihtia. The 
expedient failed. The British rushed on shouting and firing. 
Stevens called to his men to stand firm, and put them in mind of their 
bayonets. His words were unheeded. The inexperienced militia, 
dismayed and confounded by this impetuous assault, threw down 
their loaded muskets and fled. The panic spread to the North 
Carolina militia. Part of them made a temporary stand, but soon 
joined with the rest in flight, rendered headlong and disastrous by 
the charge and pursuit of Tarleton and his cavalry. Gates, 
seconded by his officers, made several attempts to rally the militia, 
but was borne along with them, and retreated from the field. The 
Maryland brigades and the Delaware regiment, unconscious that 
they were deserted by the militia, stood their ground, and bore the 
brunt of the battle. Though repeatedly broken, they as often rallied, 
and braved even the deadly push of the bayonet. At length a 
charge of Tarleton's cavalry on their flank threw them into con- 
fusion, and drove them into the woods and swamps. None showed 
more gallantry on this disastrous day than the Baron de Kalb ; he 
fought on foot with the second Maryland brigade, and fell ex- 
hausted after receiving eleven wounds. His aide-de-camp, De 
Buysson, supported him in his arms and was repeatedly wounded 
in protecting him. He announced the rank and nation of his gen- 
eral, and both were taken prisoners. De Kalb died in the course 
of a few days, dictating in his last moments a letter expressing his 
affection for the officers and men of his division who had so nobly 
stood by him in this deadly strife. The further they fled, the more 
the militia were dispersed, until the generals were abandoned by 
all but their aids. To add to the mortification of Gates, he learned in 
the course of his retreat that Sumter had been completely success- 
ful, and having reduced the enemy's redoubt on the Wateree, and 
captured one hundred prisoners and forty loaded wagons, was 
marching off with his booty on the opposite side of the river. He 
had no longer any means of cooperating with him, and proceeded 
with Gen. Caswell towards the village of Charlotte, about sixty 
miles distant. On the morning of the 17th of August, Cornwallis 
detached Tarleton in pursuit of Sumter with a body of cavalry and 
light infantry, about three hundred and fifty strong. Sumter was 
retreating up the western side of the Wateree, much encumbered 
by his spoils and prisoners. Tarleton pushed up by forced and 
concealed marches on the eastern side. Horses and men suffered 
from the intense heat of the weather. At dusk Tarleton descried 
the fires of the American camp about a mile from the opposite 
shore. He ^?.vq. orders to secure all boats on the river, and to 
light no fire in the camp. In the morning his sentries gave word 



442 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

that the Americans were quitting their encampment. It was evi- 
dent they knew nothing of a British force being in pursuit of them. 
Tarleton now crossed the Wateree ; the infantry with a three- 
ponder passed in boats ; the cavahy swam their horses where the 
river was not fordable. The delay in crossing, and the dili- 
gence of Sumter's march, increased the distance between the 
pursuers and the pursued. About noon a part of Tarleton's force 
gave out through heat and fatigue. Leaving them to repose on the 
bank of Fishing Creek, he pushed on with about one hundred 
dragoons, the freshest and most able. As he entered a valley, a 
discharge of small-arms from a thicket tumbled a dragoon from his 
saddle. A sergeant and five dragoons rode up to the summit of a 
neighboring hill to reconnoitre, and looking over beheld the Ameri- 
can camp on a neighboring height, and apparently in a most negli- 
gent condition, Sumter, in fact, having pressed his retreat to the 
neighborhood of the Catawba Ford, and taken a strong position at 
the mouth of Fishing Creek, and his patrols having scoured the 
road without discovering any sign of an enemy, considered himself 
secure from surprise. The troops having for the last four days 
been almost without food or sleep, were now indulged in complete 
relaxation. Their arms were stacked, and they were scattered 
about, some strolling, some lying on the grass under the trees, 
some bathing in the river. Sumter himself had thrown off part of 
his clothes on account of the heat of the weather. Tarleton pre- 
pared for instant attack. His cavalry and infantry formed into one 
line, dashed forward with a general shout, and, before the Ameri- 
cans could recover from their surprise, got between them and the 
parade ground on which the muskets were stacked. All was con- 
fusion and consternation in the American camp. Some opposition 
was made from behind baggage wagons, and there was skirmish- 
ing in various quarters, but in a little while there was a universal 
flight to the river and the woods. Between three and four hundred 
were killed and wounded ; all their arms and baggage with two 
brass field-pieces fell into the hands of the enemy, who also recup- 
tured the prisoners and booty taken at Camden. Sumter with 
about three hundred and fifty of his men effected a retreat ; he 
galloped off, it is said, without saddle, hat or coat. 

Gates, continued on to Hillsborough, one hundred and eighty 
miles from Camden, Avhere he made a stand and endeavored to 
rally his scattered forces. His regular troops, however, were lit- 
tle more than one thousand. Washington on receiving Avord of the 
disastrous reverse at Camden, gave orders that some regular troops, 
enlisted in Maryland for the war, and intended for the main army, 
should be sent to the southward. He wrote to Gov. Rutledge of 
South Carolina (i2th Sept.), to raise a permanent, compact, well- 
organized body of troops, instead of depending upon a numerous 
army of militia, always "inconceivably expensive, and too fluctuat- 
ing and undisciplined" to oppose a regular force. He was sdll 
more urgent and explicit on this head in his letters to the President 
of Congress (Sept. 15th). " Regular troops alone," said he, "are 
equal to the exigencies of modern war, as well for defence as 



1780.] TREASON OF BEN-EDICT ARNOLD. 443 

offence. The firmness requisite for the real business of fighting is 
only to be attained by a constant course of discipline and service." 

Washington received a letter from the now unfortunate Gates, 
dated at Hillsborough, Aug. 30th and Sept. 3d, giving particulars 
of his discomfiture. No longer vaunting and vairtglorious, he 
pleads nothing but his patriotism, and deprecates the fall which he 
apprehends awaits him. The appeal which he makes to Washing- 
ton's magnanimity to support him in this day of his reverse, is the 
highest testimonial he could give to the exalted character of the 
man whom he once affected to underrate, and aspired to supplant. 

Washington, hearing that the Count de Guichen, with his West 
India squadron, was approaching the coast, prepared to proceed 
to Hartford in Connecticut, there to hold a conference with the 
Count de Rochambeau and the Chtvalier de Ternay, and concert 
a plan for future operations, of which the attack on New York was 
to fonn the principal feature. 



CHAPTER XX. 

TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

We have now to enter upon a sad episode of our revolutionary 
history — the treason of Arnold. Of the military skill, daring enter- 
prise, and indomitable courage of this man — ample evidence has 
been given in the foregoing pages. Of the implicit confidence 
reposed in his patriotism by Washington, sufficient proof is mani- 
fested in the command with which he was actually entrusted. But 
Arnold was false at heart, and, at the very time of seeking that 
command, had been for many months in traitorous correspondence 
with the enemy. The first idea of proving recreant to the cause 
he had vindicated so bravely, appears to have entered his mind 
when the charges preferred against him by the council of Penn- 
sylvania were referred by Congress to a court-martial. Eefore 
that time he had been incensed against Pennsylvania ; but now 
his wrath was excited against his country, which appeared so 
insensible to his services. Disappointment in regard to the settle- 
ment of his accounts, added to his irritation, had mingled sordid 
motives with his resentment ; and he began to think how, while he 
wreaked his vengeance on his country, he might do it with advan- 
tage to his fortunes. With this veiw he commenced a correspon- 
dence with Sir Henry Clinton in a disguised handwriting, and, 
under the signature of Gustavtis, represented himself as a person 
of importance in the American service, who, being dissatisfied with 
the late proceedings of Congress, particularly the alliance with 
France, was desirous of joining the cause of Great Britain, could 
he be certain of personal security, and indemnification for what- 
ever loss of property he might sustain. His letters occasionally 
communicated articles of intelligence of some moment which 
proved to be true, and induced Sir Henry- to keep up the corres- 



444 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

pondence ; which was conducted on his part by his aide-de-camp, 
Major John Andre, hkewise in a disguised hand, and under the 
signature of John Anderson. Months elapsed before Sir Henry- 
discovered who was his secret correspondent. Even after discov- 
ering it he did not see fit to hold out any very strong inducements 
to Arnold for desertion. The latter was out of command, and had 
nothing to offer but his services ; which in his actual situation were 
scarcely worth buying. In the mean time the circumstances of 
Arnold were daily becoming more desperate. Debts were accu- 
mulating, and creditors becoming more and more importunate, as 
his means to satisfy them decreased. The public reprimand he 
had received was rankling in his mind, and filling his heart with 
bitterness. Still tie hisitated on the brink of absolute infamy, and 
attempted a half-way leap. Such was his proposition to M. de 
Luzerne to make himself subservient to the policy of the French 
government, on condition of receivmg a loan equal to the amount 
of his debts. This he might have reconciled to his conscience by 
the idea that France was an ally, and its policy likely to be 
friendly. It was his last card before resorting to utter treachery. 
Failing in it, he sought and obtained command of West Point, the 
great object of British and American sohcitude, on the possession 
cf which were supposed by many to hinge the fortunes of the war. 
He took command of the post and its dependencies about the 
beginning of August, fixing his head-quarters at Beverley, a coun- 
try-seat a little below West Point, on the opposite or eastern side 
of the river. It stood in a lonely part of the Highlands high up 
from the river, yet at the foot of a mountain covered with woods. 
It was commonly called the Robinson House, having formerly 
belonged to Washington's early friend Col. Beverley Robinson, a 
royalist who had entered into the British service, and was now resid- 
ing in New York, and Beverley with its surrounding lands had 
been confiscated. From this place Arnold carried on a secret 
correspondence with Major Andre. Their letters, still in disguised 
hands, and under the names of Gustavus and John Anderson, 
purported to treat merely of commercial operations, but the real 
matter in negotiation was the betrayal of West Point and the 
Highlands to Sir Henry Chnton. This stupendous piece of treach- 
ery was to be consummated at the time when Washington, with 
the main body of his army, would be drawn towards King's Bridge, 
and the French troops landed on Long Island in the projected 
reoperation against New York. At such time, a flotilla under 
Rcdney, having on board a large land force, was to ascend the 
Hudson to the Highlands, which would be surrendered by Arnold 
ahnost without opposition, under pretext of insufficient force to 
make resistance. The immediate result of this surrender, it was 
anticipated, would be the defeat of the combined attempt upon 
New York ; and its ultimate effect might be the dismemberment 
of the Union and the dislocation of the whole American scheme of 
warfare. The part which Major Andre took in this dark transac- 
tion, and the degree of romantic interest subsequently thrown 
around liis memory, call for a more specific notice of him. He was 



1780.] ANDRE'S ANTECEDENTS, 445 

born in London, 175 1, but his parents were of Geneva in Switzer- 
land, where he was educated. Being intended for mercantile life, 
he entered a London counting-house, but had scarce attained his 
eighteenth year when he formed a romantic attachment to a beauti- 
ful girl, Miss HonoraSneyd, by whom his passion was returned, and 
they became engaged. This sadly unfitted him for the sober routine 
of the counting-house. "All my mercantile calculations," writes 
he in one of his boyish letters, "go to the tune of dear Honora." 
The father of the young lady interfered, and the premature match 
was broken off. Andre abandoned the counting-house and entered 
the army. His first commission was dated March 4, 1771 ; but he 
subsequently visited Germany, and returned to England in 1773, 
still haunted by his early passion. His lady love, in the mean 
time, had been wooed by other admirers, and in the present year 
. became the second wife of Richard Lovel Edgeworth, a young 
widower of twenty-six, and father of the celebrated Maria Edge- 
worth. Andre came to America in 1774, as Heutenant of the Royal 
English Fusileers ; and was among the officers captured at Saint 
Johns, early in the war, by Montgomery. He still bore about 
him a memento of his boyish passion, the " dear talisman," as he' 
called it, a miniature of Miss Sneyd painted by himself in 1769. 
His temper, however, appears to have been naturally light and 
festive; and if he still cherished this "tender remembrance," it 
was but as one of those documents of early poetry and romance, 
which serve to keep the heart warm and tender among the gay 
and cold realities of life. His varied and graceful talents, and his 
engaging manners, rendered him generally popular ; while his 
devoted and somewhat subservient loyalty recommended him to 
the favor of his commander, and obtained him the appointment of 
adjutant-general with the rank of major. He was a prime promo- 
ter of elegant amusement in camp and garrison. He was one of 
the principal devisers of the " Mischianza" in Philadelphia, in 
which semi-effeminate pageant he.had figured as one of the knights 
champions of beauty ; Miss Shippen, afterwards Mrs. Arnold, 
being the lady whose peerless charms he undertook to vindicate. 
In the present instance he had engaged, nothing loth, in a service 
of intrigue and manoeuvre, which, however sanctioned by military 
usage, should hardly have invited the zeal of a high-minded man. 
He availed himself of his former intimacy with Mrs. Arnold, to make 
her an unconscious means of facilitating a correspondence with 
her husband. Some have inculpated her in the guilt of the trans- 
action, but we think, unjustly. It has been alleged that a corres- 
pondence had been going on between her and Andre previous to 
her marriage, and was kept up after it ; but as far as we can learn, 
only one letter passed between them, written by Andre on August 
l6th, 1779, in which he solicits her remembrance, assures her that 
respect for her and the fair circle in which he had become acquain- 
ted with her, remains unimpaired by distance or political broils, 
reminds her that the Mischianza had made him a complete milliner, 
and offers his services to furnish her with supplies in that department. 
The apparent object of this letter was to open a convenient medium 



446 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

of communication, which Arnold might use without exciting her 
suspicion. Various circumstances connected with this nefarious 
negotiation, argue lightness of mind and something of debasing 
alloy on the part of Andre. The correspondence carried on for 
months in the jargon of traffic, savored less of the camp than the 
counting-house ; the protracted tampering with a brave but neces- 
sitous man for the sacrifice of his fame and the betrayal of his 
trust, strikes us as being beneath the range of a truly chivalrous 
nature. Correspondence had now done its part in the business ; 
for the completion of the plan and the adjustment of the traitor's 
recompense, a personal meeting was necessary between Arnold 
and Andre. The former proposed it should take place at his own 
quarters at the Robinson House, where Andre should come in dis- 
guise, as a bearer of intelligence, and under the feigned name of 
John Anderson. Andre positively objected to entering the Ameri- 
can lines; it was arranged, therefore, that the meeting should take 
place on neutral ground, near the American out-post, at Dobbs 
Ferry, on the nth of September, at 12 o'clock. Andre attended 
at the appointed place and time, accompanied by Col. Robinson, 
who was acquainted with the plot. Arnold had passed the preced- 
ing night at what was called the White House, the residence of 
Mr. Joshua Hett Smith, situated on the west side of the Hudson, 
in Haverstraw Bay, about two miles below Stony Point. He set 
off thence in his barge for the place of rendezvous ; but, not being 
protected by a flag, was fired upon and pursued by the British 
guard-boats, stationed near Dobbs Ferry. He took refuge at an 
American post on the western shore, whence he returned in the 
night to his quarters in the Robinson House. New arrangements 
were made for an interview, but it was postponed until after 
Washington should depart for Hartford, to hold the proposed 
conference with Count Rochambeau and the other French officers. 
In the meantime, the British sloop of war, Vulture, anchored a 
few miles below Teller's Point, to be at hand in aid of the nego- 
tiation. On board was Col. Robinson, who, pretending to believe 
that Gen. Putnam still commanded in the Highlands addressed a 
note to him requesting an interview on the subject of his confisca- 
ted property. This letter he sent by flag, enclosed in one addressed 
to Arnold; soliciting of him the same boon should Gen. Putnam 
be absent. On the i8th Sept., Washington with his suite crossed 
the Hudson to Verplanck's Point, in Arnold's barge, on his way 
to Hartford. Arnold accompanied him as far as Peekskill, and 
on the way, laid before him with affected frankness, the letter of 
Col. Robinson, and asked his advice. Washington disapproved 
of any such interview, observing, that the civil authorities alone 
had cognizance of these questions of confiscated property. Arnold 
now openly sent a flag on board of the Vulture, informing Col. 
Robinson, that a person with a boat and flag would be alongside 
of the Vulture, on the night of the 20th ; and diat any matter he 
might wish to communicate, would be laid before Gen. Washing- 
ton on the following Saturday, when he might be expected back 
from Newport. On the faith of the information thus covertly con* 



i/So.] THE CONSPIRATORS MEET. 447 

veyed, Andre proceeded up the Hudson on the 20th ; and went on 
board of the Vulture, where he expected to meet Arnold. The 
latter, however, had made other arrangements, probably with a 
view to his personal security. About half-past eleven, of a still 
and starlight night (the 21st), a boat was descried from on board, 
gliding silently along, rowed by two men with muffled oars. A 
man, seated in the stern, gave out that they were from King's Ferry, 
bound to Dobbs Ferry. He proved to be Mr, Joshua Hett Smith, 
whom Arnold had prevailed upon to go on board of the Vulture, 
and bring a person on shore who was coming from New York 
with important intelligence. He had given him passes to protect 
him and those with him, in case he should be stopped, either in 
going or returning, by an American water guard, which patrolled 
the river in whale-boats. He made him the bearer of a letter 
addressed to Col. Robinson, which was to the following purport : 
"This will be delivered to you by Mr. Smith, who will conduct 
you to a place of safety. Neither Mr. Smith nor any other person 
shall be made acquainted with your proposals ; if they (which I 
doubt not) are of such a nature, that I can officially take notice 
of them, I shall do it with pleasure. I take it for granted Col. 
Robinson will not propose anything, that is not for the interest of 
the United States as well as of himself." Robinson introduced 
Andre to Smith by the name of John Anderson, who was to go on 
shore in his place (he being unwell), to have an interview with 
Gen. Arnold. Andre wore a blue great coat which covered his 
uniform, and Smith always declared that at the time he was totally 
ignorant of his name and military character. Andre was zealous 
in executing his mission, and, embarking in the boat with Smith, 
was silently rowed to the western side of the river, about six miles 
below Stony Point. Here they landed a little after midnight, at 
the foot of a shadowy mountain called the Long Clove ; a solitary 
place, the haunt of the owl and the whippoorwill, and well fitted 
for a treasonable conference. Arnold was in waiting, but stand- 
ing aloof among thickets. He had come hither on horseback from 
Smith's house, about three or four miles distant, attended by one 
of Smith's servants, likewise mounted. The midnight negotiation 
between Andre and Arnold was carried on in darkness among the 
trees. Smith remained in the boat, and the servant drew off to a 
distance with the horses. One hour after another passed away, 
when Smith approached the place of conference, and gave warn- 
ing that it was near daybreak, and if they lingered much longer 
the boat would be discovered. The nefarious bargain was not yet 
completed, and Arnold feared the sight of a boat going to the Vul- 
ture might cause suspicion. He prevailed therefore upon Andre 
to remain on shore until the following night. The boat was accord- 
ingly sent to a creek higher up the river, and Andre, mounting 
the servant's horse, set off with Arnold for Smith's house. The 
road passed through the village of Haverstraw. As they rode 
along in the dark, the voice of a sentinel demanding the counter- 
sign startled Andre with the fearful conviction that he was within 
the American Unes, but it was too late to recede. It was day- 



448 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

break when they arrived at Smith's house. They had scarcely 
entered when the booming of cannon was heard from down the 
river. It gave Andre uneasiness, and with reason. Col. Living- 
ston, who commanded above at Verplanck's Point, learning 
that the Vulture lay within shot of Teller's Point, which divides 
Haverstraw Bay from the Tappan Sea, had sent a party with can- 
non to that point in the night, and they were now firing upon the 
sloop of war. Andre watched the cannonade with an anxious eye 
from an upper window of Smith's house. At one time he thought 
the Vulture was on fire. He was relieved from painful solicitude 
when he saw the vessel weigh anchor, and drop down the river 
out of reach of cannon shot. After breakfast, the plot for the 
betrayal of West Point and its dependent posts was adjusted, and 
the sum agreed upon that Arnold was to receive, should it be suc- 
cessful. Andre was furnished with plans of the works, and explan- 
atory papers, which, at Arnold's request, he placed between his 
stockings and his feet ; promising, in case of accident, to destroy 
them. Arnold prepared to return in his own barge to his head- 
quarters at the Robinson Plouse. As the Vulture had shifted her 
ground, he suggested to Andre a return to New York by land, as 
most safe and expeditious ; the latter, however, insisted upon being 
put on board of the sloop of war, on the ensuing night. Arnold 
consented ; but, before his departure, to provide against the possi- 
ble necessity of a return by land, he gave Andre the following 
PASS, dated from the Robinson House : 

" Permit Mr. John Anderson to pass the guards to the White 
Plains, or below, if he chooses : he being on public business by 
my direction. 

B. Arnold, M. Gen'l." 

Arnold departed about ten o'clock. Andre passed a lonely day, 
casting many a wistful look toward the Vulture. Once on board 
of that ship he would be safe ; he would have fulfilled his mission ; 
the capture of West Point would be certain, and his triumph would 
be complete. As evening approached he grew impatient, and 
spoke to Smith about departure. To his surprise, he found the 
latter had made no preparation for it ; he had discharged his boat- 
man, who had gone home : in short, he refused to take him on 
board of the Vulture. The cannonade of the morning had proba- 
bly made him fear for his personal safety, should he attempt to go 
on board, the Vulture having resumed her exposed position. He 
offered, however, to cross the river with Andre at King's Ferry, 
put him in the way of returning to New York by land, and accom- 
panying him some distance on horseback. Andre was in an agony 
at finding himself, notwithstanding all his stipulations, forced 
within the American lines; but there seemed to be no alternative, 
and he prepared for the hazardous journey. He wore, as we have 
noted, a military coat under a long blue surtout ; he was now per- 
suaded to lay it aside, and put on a citizen's coat of Smith's; thus 
adding disguise to the other humihtating and hazardous circum- 



1780.] ANDRE CAPTURED. 449 

stances of the case. It was about sunset when Andre and Smith, 
attended by a negro servant of the latter, crossed from King's 
Ferry to Verplanck's Point. After proceeding about eight miles 
on the road towards White Plains, they were stopped between eight 
and nine o'clock, near Crompond, by a patrolling party. The 
captain of it was uncommonly inquisitive and suspicious. The 
passports with Arnold's signature satisfied him. He warned them, 
however, against the danger of proceeding further in the night. 
Cow Boys from the British lines were scouring the country, and 
had recently marauded the neighborhood. Smith's fears were 
again excited, and Andre was obliged to yield to them. A bed 
was furnished them in a neighboring house, where Andre passed 
an anxious and restless night, under the very eye, as it were, of an 
American patrol. At daybreak he hurried their departure, and 
his mind was lightened of a load of care, when he found himself 
out of the the reach of the patrol and its inquisitive commander. 
They were now approaching that noted part of the country, here- 
tofore mentioned as the Neutral Ground, extending north and south 
about thirty miles, between the British and American lines. A 
beautiful region of forest-clad hills, fertile valleys, and abundant 
streams, but now almost desolated by the scourings of Skinners 
and Cow Boys ; the former professing allegiance to the American 
cause, the latter to the British, but both arrant marauders. One 
who resided at the time in this region, gives a sad picture of its 
state. Houses plundered and dismantled ; inclosures broken 
down ; cattle carried away ; fields lying waste ; the roads grass- 
grown ; the country mournful, solitary, silent — reminding one of 
the desolation presented in the song of Deborah. " In the days 
of Shamgar the son of Anath, in the days of Jael, the highways 
were unoccupied, and the travellerswalked in by-paths. The inhab- 
itants of the villages ceased ; they ceased in Israel." About two 
and a half miles from Pine's Bridge, on the Croton River, Andre 
and his companion partook of a scanty meal at a farm-house 
which had recently been harried by the Cow Boys. Here they 
parted. Smith returned home, Andre to pursue his journey alone 
to New York. His spirits, however, were cheerful ; for, having 
got beyond the patrols, he considered the most perilous part of 
his route accomplished. About six miles beyond Pine's Bridge he 
came to a place where the road forked, the left branch leading 
towards White Plains in the interior of the country, the right 
inclining towards the Hudson. He turned down it, and took his 
course along the river road. He had not proceeded far, when 
coming to a place where a small stream crossed the road and ran 
into a woody dell, a man stepped out from the trees, levelled a 
musket and brought him to a stand, while two other men similarly 
armed, showed themselves prepared to second their comrade. The 
man who had first stepped out wore a refugee uniform. At sight 
of it, Andre's heart leaped, and he felt himself secure. Losing all 
caution, he exclaimed eagerly ; " Gentlemen, I hope you belong 
to our party ? " — " What party ? " was asked. — " The lower party," 
said Andre. — "We do,' * was the reply. All reserve was now at an end. 



450 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Andr6 declared himself to be a British officer ; that he had been 
up the country on particular business, and must not be detained a 
single moment. He drew out his watch as he spoke. It was a 
gold one, and served to prove to them that he was what he repre- 
sented himself, gold watches being seldom worn in those days, 
excepting by persons of consequence. To his consternation, the 
supposed refugee now avowed himself and his companions to be 
Americans, and told Andre he was their prisoner! It was even 
so. The sacking and burning of Young's House, and the carry- 
ing of its rustic defenders into captivity, had roused the spirit of 
the Neutral ground. The yeomanry of that harassed country 
had turned out in parties to intercept freebooters from the British 
lines, who had recently been on the maraud, and might be return- 
ing to the city with their spoils. One of these parties, composed 
of seven men of the neighborhood, had divided itself. Four took 
post on a hill above Sleepy Hollow, to watch the road which 
crossed the country ; the other three, john paulding, isaac van 
"WART, and DAVID WILLIAMS by name, stationed themselves on 
the road which runs parallel to the Hudson. Two of them were 
seated on the grass playing at cards to pass away the time, while 
one mounted guard. The one in refugee garb who brought Andre 
to a stand, was john paulding, a stout-hearted youngster, who, 
like most of the young men of this outraged neighborhood, had 
been repeatedly in arms to repel or resent aggressions, and now 
belonged to the militia. He had twice been captured and confined 
in the loathsome military prisons, where patriots suffered in New 
York, first in the North Dutch Church, and last in the noted Sugar 
House. Both times he had made his escape ; the last time, only 
four days previous to the event of which we are treating. The 
ragged refugee coat, which had deceived Andre, and been the 
cause of his betraying himself, had been given to Paulding by 
one of his captors, in exchange for a good yeoman garment of 
which they stripped him. This slight circumstance may have pro- 
duced the Avhole discovery of the treason. (Commodore Hiram Paul- 
ding, a son of the captor heard this repeatedly from the lips of his 
father.) Andre had betrayed himself by his heedless avowal. 
Promptly, however, recovering his self-possession, he endeavored 
to pass off his previous account of himself as a mere subterfuge. 
"A man must do anything," said he laughingly, " to get along." 
He now declared himself to be a Continental officer, going down 
to Dobbs Ferry to get information from below ; so saying, he drew 
forth and showed them the pass of Gen. Arnold. This, in the 
first instance, would have been sufficient ; but his unwary tongue 
had ruined him. The suspicions of his captors were completely 
roused. Seizing the bridle of his horse, they ordered him to dis- 
mount. He warned them that he was on urgent business for the 
general, and that they would get themselves into trouble should 
they detain him. "We care not for that," was the reply, as they 
led him among the thickets, on the border of the brook. Paulding 
asked whether he had any letters about him. He answered, no. 
They proceeded to search him. A minute description is given of 



1780.] ANDRE CANNOT BRIBE HIS CAPTORS. 451 

his dress. He wore a round hat, a blue surtout, a crimson close- 
bodied coat, somewhat faded : the button-holes worked with gold, 
and the buttons covered with gold lace, a nankeen vest, and 
small-clothes and boots. They obliged him to take off his coat 
and vest, and found on him eighty dollars in Continental money, 
but nothing to warrant suspicion of anything sinister, and were 
disposed to let him proceed, when Paulding exclaimed ; " Boys, I 
am not satisfied*— his boots must come off." At this Andre changed 
color. His boots, he said, came off with difficulty, and he beg- 
ged he might not be subjected to the inconvenience and delay. 
His remonstrances were in vain. He was obliged to sit down ; 
his boots were drawn off, and the concealed papers discovered. 
Hastily scanning them, Paulding exclaimed, " My God ! He is a 
spy ! " He demanded of Andre where he had gotten these papers. 
"Of a man at Pine's Bridge, a stranger to me," was the reply. 
While dressing himself, Andre endeavored to ransom himself from 
his captors ; rising from one offer to another. He would give any 
sum of money if they would let him go. He would give his horse, 
saddle, bridle, and one hundred guineas, and would send thera to 
any place that might be fixed upon. Williams asked him if he 
Would not give more. He replied, that he would give any reward 
they might name either in goods or money, and would remain with 
two of their party while one went to New York to get it. Here 
Paulding, says David Williams, broke in and declared with an 
oath, that if he would give ten thousand guineas, he should not 
stir one step. The unfortunate Andre now submitted to his fate, 
and the captors set off with their prisoner for North Castle, the 
nearest American post, distant ten or twelve miles. They pro- 
ceeded across a hilly and woody region, part of the way by the 
road, part across fields. One strode in front, occasionally holding 
the horse by the bridle, the others walked on either side. Andre 
rode on in silence, dechning to answer further questions until he 
should come before a military officer. About noon, they halted at 
a farm house where the inhabitants were taking their mid-day repast. 
The worthy house-wife, moved by Andre's prepossessing appear- 
ance and dejected air, kindly invited him to partake. He declined, 
alleging that he had no appetite. This was related to us by a 
Venerable matron, who was present on the occasion, a young girl 
at the time, but who in her old days could not recall the scene and 
the appearance of Andre without tears. Lieut. -Col. Jameson, who 
was in command at North Castle, recognized the handwriting of 
Arnold in the papers found upon Andre, and, perceiving that they 
were of a dangerous nature, sent them off by express to General 
Washington, at Hartford. Andre, still adhering to his assumed 
name, begged that the commander at West Point might be informed 
that John Anderson., though bearing his passport, was detained. 
Jameson appears completely to have lost his head on the occasion. 
He wrote to Arnold, stating the circumstances of the arrest, and 
that the papers found upon the prisoner had been despatched by 
express to the commander-in-chief, and at the same time, he sent 
the prisoner himself, under a strong guard, to accompany the lat- 



452 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

ter. Shortly afterwards, Major Tallmadge» next in command to 
Jameson, but of a much clearer head, arrived at North Castle, 
having been absent on duty to White Plains. He at once sus- 
pected treachery on the part of Arnold. At his earnest entreaties, 
an express was sent after the officer who had Andre in charge, 
ordering him to bring the latter back to North Castle ; but by 
singular perversity or obtuseness in judgment, Jameson neglected 
to countermand the letter which he had written to Arnold. When 
Andre was brought back, and was pacing up and down the room, 
Tallmadge saw at once by his air and movements, and the mode 
of turning on his heel, that he was a military man. By his advice, 
and under his escort, the prisoner was conducted to Col. Sheldon's 
post at Lower Salem, as more secure than North Castle. Here 
Andre, being told that the papers found upon his person had been 
forwarded to Washington, addressed to him immediately the fol- 
lowing lines : "I beg your Excellency will be persuaded that no 
alteration in the temper of my mind or apprehensions for my 
safety, induces me to take the step of addressing you ; but that it 
is to secure myself from the imputation of having assumed a mean 
character for treacherous purposes or self-interest. It is to vindi- 
cate my fame that I speak, and not to solicit security. The per- 
son in your possession is Major John Andre, adjutant-general of 
the British army. The influence of one commander in the army 
of his adversary is an advantage taken in war. A conespondence 
for this purpose I held ; as confidential (in the present instance) 
with his Excellency, Sir Henry Clinton. To favor it, 1 agreed to 
meet upon ground not witliin the posts of either army, a person 
who was to give me inteUigence. I came up in the Vulture man- 
of-war for this effect, and was fetched from the shore to the beach. 
Being there, I was told that the approach of day would prevent 
my return, and that i must be concealed until the next night. I 
was in my regimentals, and had fairly risked my person. Against 
my stipulation, my intention, and without my knowledge before- 
hand, I was conducted within one of your posts. Thus was I 
betrayed into the vile condition of an enemy within your posts. 
Having avowed myself a British officer, 1 have nothing to reveal 
but what relates to myself, which is true, on the honor of an officer 
and a gentleman. The request I have made to your Excellency, 
and I am conscious that 1 address myself well, is, that in any rigor 
policy may dictate, a decency of conduct towards me may mark, 
ihat though unfortunate, I am branded with nothing dishonorable ; 
as no motive could be mine, but the service of my king, and as I 
•was involuntarily an impostor." This letter he submitted to the 
perusal of Major Tallmadge, who was surprised and agitated at 
finding the rank and importance of the prisoner he had in charge. 
The letter being despatched, and Andre's pride relieved on a sen* 
sitive point, he resumed his serenity, apparently unconscious of 
the awful responsibility of his situation. Having a talent for cari- 
cature, he even amused himself in the course of the day by making 
a ludicrous sketch of himself and his rustic escort under march, 
and presenting it to an officer in the room with him. " This," said 



1780.] HE PAPERS SENT TO WASHINGTON. 453 

be gayly, " will give you an idea of the style in which I have had 
the honor to be conducted to my present abode." 

On the veiy day that the treasonable conference between Arnold 
and Andre took place, on the banks of Haverstraw Bay, Wash- 
ington had his interview with the French officers at Hartford. 
InteUigence was received that the squadron of the Count de Gui- 
chen, on which they had relied to give them superiority by sea, 
had sailed for Europe. Washington, in consequence, set out two 
or three days sooner than had been anticipated on his return to 
his headquarters on the Hudson. He was accompanied by 
Lafayette and Gen. Knox with their suites; also, part of the way, 
by Count Matthew Dumas, aide-de-camp to Rochambeau. The 
count, who regarded Washington with an enthusiasm which 
appears to have been felt by many of the young French officers, 
gives an anin>ated picture of the manner in which he was greeted 
in one of the towns through which they passed. "We arrived 
there," says he, "at night; the whole population had sallied forth 
beyond the suburbs. We were surrounded by a crowd of chil- 
dren carrying torches, and reiterating the acclamations of the citi- 
zens; all were eager to touch the person of him whom they hailed 
with loud cries as their father, and they thronged before us so as 
almost to prevent our moving onward. General Washington, much 
affected, paused a few moments, and pressing my hand, 'W^e may 
be beaten by the English,* said he, 'it is the chance of war; but 
there is the army they will never conquer! ' " These few words 
speak that noble confidence in the enduring patriotism of his coun- 
trymen, which sustained him throughout all the fluctuating for- 
tunes of the Revolution ; yet at this very moment it was about to 
receive one of the cruellest of wounds. Washington took a more 
circuitous route than the one he had originally intended, striking 
the river at Fishkill just above the Highlands, that he might visit 
W^est Point, and show the marquis the works which had been 
erected there during his absence in France. In the morning 
(Sept. 24th) they were in the saddle before break of day, having 
a ride to make of eighteen miles through the mountains. It was 
a pleasant and animated one. Washington was in excellent spir- 
its, and the buoyant marquis, and genial, warm-hearted Knox, 
were companions with whom he was always disposed to unbend. 
When within a mile of the Robinson House, Washington turned 
down a cross road leading to the banks of the Hudson. Lafayette 
apprised him that he was going out of the way, and hinted that 
Mrs. Arnold must be waiting breakfast for him. "Ah, marquis ! " 
replied he good-humoredly, "you young men are all in love with 
Mrs. Arnold, I see you are eager to be with her as soon as possi- 
ble. Go you and breakfast with her, and tell her not to wait for 
me. I must ride down and examine the redoubts on this side of 
the river, but will be with her shortly." The marquis and Gen. 
Knox, however, turned off and accompanied him down to the 
redoubts, while Col. Hamilton and Lafayette's aide-de-camp. Major 
James McHenry, continued along the main road to the Robinson 
House. The family with the two aides-de-camp sat down to break- 



454 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

fast. Mrs. Arnold had arrived but four or five days previously 
from Philadelphia, Avith her infant child, then about six months 
old. She was bright and amiable as usual. Arnold was silent 
and gloomy. It was an anxious moment with him. This was the 
day appointed for the consummation of the plot, when the enemy's 
ships were to ascend the river. The return of the commander-in- 
chief from the East two days sooner than had been anticipated, 
and his proposed visit to the forts, threatened to disconcert every- 
thing. What might be the consequence Arnold could not conjec- 
ture. An interval of fearful imaginings was soon brought to a 
direful close. In the midst of the repast a horseman alighted at 
the gate. It was the messenger bearing Jameson's letter to 
Arnold, stating the capture of Andre, and that dangerous papers 
found on him had been forwarded to Washington. The mine had 
exploded beneath Arnold's feet; yet in this awful moment he gave 
evidence of that quickness of mind which had won laurels for 
him when in the path of duty. Controlling the dismay that must 
have smitten him to the heart, he beckoned Mrs. Arnold from the 
breakfast table, signifying a wish to speak with her in private. 
When alone with her in her room up stairs, he announced in hur- 
ried words that he was a ruined man, and must instantly fly for his 
life ! Overcome by the shock, she fell senseless on the floor. 
Without pausing to aid her, he hurried down stairs, returned to 
the breakfast room, and informed his guests that he must haste to 
West Point to prepare for the reception of the commander-in-chief; 
and mounting the horse of the messenger, which stood saddled at 
the door, galloped down by what is still called Arnold's Path, to the 
landing-place, where his six-oared barge was moored. Throwing 
himself into it, he ordered his men to pull out into the middle of 
the river, and then made down Avith all speed for Teller's Point, 
which divides Haverstraw Bay from the Tappan Sea, saying he 
must be back soon to meet the commander-in-chief. Washington 
arrived at the Robinson House shortly after the flight of the 
traitor. Being informed that Mrs. Arnold was in her room, 
unwell, and that Arnold had gone to West Point to receive him, 
he took a hasty breakfast, and repaired to the fortress, leaving 
word that he and his suite would return to dinner. In crossing 
the river, he noticed that no salute was fired from the fort, nor 
was there any preparation to receive him on his landing. Col. 
Lamb, the officer in command, who came down to the shore, 
manifested surprise at seeing him, and apologized for this want of- 
military ceremony, by assuring him that he had not been apprised 
of his intended visit. "Is not Gen. Arnold here?" demanded 
Washington. "No, sir. He has not been here for two days past; 
nor have I heard from him in that time." This was strange and 
perplexing, but no sinister suspicion entered Washington's mind. 
He remained at the Point throughout the morning inspecting the 
fortifications. In the meantime, the messenger whom Jameson had 
despatched to Hartford Avith a letter covering the papers taken on 
Andre, arrived at the Robinson House. Coming by the lower 
road, the messenger had passed through Salem, where Andre was 



f 



1780.] THE TRAITOR ESCAPES, 455 

confined, and brought with him the letter written by that unfortu- 
nate officer to the commander-in-chief. These letters being rep- 
resented as of the utmost moment, were opened and read by Col. 
Hamilton, as Washington's aide-de-camp and confidential officer. 
He maintained silence as to their contents; met Washington, as he 
and his companions were coming up from the river, on their 
return from West Point, spoke to him a few words in a low voice, 
and they retired together into the house. Whatever agitation. 
Washington may have felt when these documents of deep-laid 
treachery were put before him, he wore his usual air of equa- 
nimity when he rejoined his companions. Taking Knox and 
Lafayette aside, he communicated to them the intelligence, and 
placed the papers in their hands. "Whom can we trust now?" 
was his only comment, but it spoke volumes. His first idea was 
to arrest the traitor. Conjecturing the direction of his flight, he 
despatched Col. Hamilton on horseback to spur with all speed to 
Verplanck's Point, which commands the narrow part of the Hud- 
son, just below the Highlands, with orders to the commander to 
intercept Arnold should he not already have passed that post. 
This done, when dinner was announced, he invited the company 
to table. "Come, gentlemen; since Mrs. Arnold is unwell, and 
the general is absent, let us sit down without ceremony." In the 
meantime, Arnold, panic-stricken, had sped his caitiff flight through 
the Highlands; infamy howhng in his rear; anest threatening him 
in the advance; a fugitive past the posts which he had recently 
commanded; shrinking at the sight of that flag which hitherto it 
had been his glory to defend ! Alas ! how changed from the 
Arnold, who, but two years previously, when repulsed, wounded 
and crippled, before the walls of Quebec, could yet write proudly 
from a shattered camp, " I am in the way of my duty, and I know 
no fear!" He had passed through the Highlands in safety, but 
there were the batteries at Verplanck's Point yet to fear. His 
barge was known by the garrison. A white handkerchief dis- 
played gave it the sanction of a flag of truce; it was suffered to pass 
without question, and the traitor effected his escape to the Vulture 
sloop-of-war anchored a few miles below. As if to consummate 
his degradation by a despicable act of treachery and meanness, he 
gave up to the commander his coxswain and six bargemen as 
prisoners of war; but when it was found that the men had sup- 
posed they were acting under the protection of a flag, they were 
released by order of Sir Henry Clinton. Col. Hamilton returned 
to the Robinson House and reported the escape of the traitor. 
He brought a letter to Washington, which had been sent on shore 
from the Vulture, under a flag of truce. It was from Arnold. 
The following is a transcript : 

"Sir.— The heart which is conscious of Its own rectitude, cannot attempt to 
palliate a step whicli the world may censure as wrong ; I have ever acted from 
a principle of love to my country since the commencement of the present un« 
happy contest between Great Britain and the colonies; the same principle of 
love to my country actuates my present conduct, however it may appear 
inconsistent to the world, who seldom lu^pe right of anv man's actions. I 
ask no favor for myself. 1 have too often ex])erlenced the ingiatitude of my 



456 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

country to attempt it; but, from the known humanity of your Excellency, I 
am inuucecl to aslc your protection for Mrs. Arnold from every insult and 
injury that a mistaken vengeance of my country may expose her to. It ought 
to fall only on me; she is as good and as innocent as an angel, and is inca- 
pable of doing wrong. I beg she may be permitted to return to her friends in 
rhiladelpliia, or to come to jne as slie may choose; from your Excellency I 
have no fears on her account, but she may suffer from the mistaken fury of the 
country." 

Notwithstanding Washington's apparent tranquility and real 
self-possession, it was a time of appalling distrust. How far the 
treason had extended; who else might be implicated in it, was 
unknown. Arnold knew everything about the condition of the 
posts : might he not persuade the enemy, in the present weak state 
of the garrisons, to attempt a coup de main ? Washington 
instantly, therefore, despatched a letter to Col. Wade, who was in 
temporary command at West Point, "Gen. Arnold is gone to the 
enemy," writes he. "I request that you will be as vigilant as 
possible, and as the enemy may have it in contemplation to attempt 
some enterprise even io-night, against these posts, 1 wish you to 
make immediately after the receipt of this, the best disposition you 
can of your force, so as to have a proportion of men in each work 
on the west side of the river." A regiment stationed in the High- 
lands was ordered to the same duty, as well as a body of the Massa- 
chusetts militia from Fishkill. At half-past seven in the evening, 
Washington wrote to Gen. Greene, who, in his absence, com- 
manded the army at Tappan, — urging him to put the left division 
in motion as soon as possible, with orders to proceed to King's 
Ferry. "The division," writes he, "will come on light, leaving 
their heavy baggage to follow. You will also hold all troops in 
readiness to move on the shortest notice," His next thought was 
about Andre. The intrigues in which he had been engaged, and 
the errand on which he had come, made him consider him an art- 
ful and resolute person. He had possessed himself of dangerous 
information, and in a manner had been arrested with the key of 
the citadel in his pocket. On the same evening, therefore, Wash- 
ington wrote to Col. Jameson, charging that every precaution 
should be taken to prevent Major Andre from making his escape. 
" He will no doubt effect it, if possible; and in order that he may 
not have it in his power, you w ill send him under the care of such 
a party and so many officers as to preclude him from the least 
opportunity of doing it. That he may be less liable to be recap- 
tured by the enemy, he had better be conducted to this place by 
some upper road, rather than by the route of Crompond. I 
would not wish Mr. Andre to be treated with insult; but he does 
not appear to stand upon the footing of a common prisoner of. 
war, and therefore he is to be most closely and narrowly watched. * 
In the meantime, Mrs. Arnold remained in her room in a state 
bordering on frenzy. Arnold might well confide in the humanity and 
delicacy of Washington in respect to her. He regarded her with the 
sincerest commisseration, acquitting her of all previous knowledge 
of her husband's guilt. On remitting to her, by one of his aides-de- 
camp, the letter of her husband, written on board of the Vulture, 
he informe4 her that he had done all that depended upon himself 



i78o.] ANDRE RECOUNTS HIS SCHEME. 457 

to have him arrested, but not having succeeded, he experienced a 
pleasure in assuring her of his safety. A letter of Hamilton's writ- 
ten at the time, with all the sympathies of a young man, gives a 
touching picture of Washington's first interview with her. "She 
for a time entirely lost herself. The general went up to see her, 
and she upbraided him with being in a plot to murder her child. 
One moment she raved, another she melted into tears, sometimes 
she pressed her infant to her bosom, and lamented its fate occa- 
sioned by the imprudence of its father in a manner that would have 
pierced insensibihty itself. All the sweetness of beauty, all the love- 
liness of innocence, all the tenderness of a wife, and all the fondness 
of a mother, showed themselves in her appearance and conduct." 
She soon set off under a passport from Washington, to her father's 
house in Philadelphia. 

On the 26th of September, the day after the treason of Arnold 
had been revealed to Washington, Andre arrived at the Robinson 
House, in charge of Major Tallmadge. Washington made many 
inquiries of the major, but declined to have the prisoner brought 
into his presence, apparently entertaining a strong idea of his 
moral obliquity, from the nature of the scheme in which he had 
been engaged, and the circumstances under which he had been 
arrested. He sent him to West Point, and shortly afterwards, 
Joshua H. Smith, who had been arrested. Still, not considering 
them secure even there, he determined on the following day to 
send them on to the camp. In a letter to Greene he writes: 
"They will be under an escort of horse, and I wish you to have 
separate houses in camp ready for their reception, in which they 
may be kept perfectly secure; and also strong, trusty guards, trebly 
officered, that a part may be constantly in the room with them. 
They have not been permitted to be together, and must be kept 
apart." Early on the morning of the 28th, the prisoners were 
embarked in a barge, to be conveyed from West Point to King's 
Ferry. Tallmadge placed Andre by his side on the after seat of 
the barge. Being both young, of equal rank and prepossessing 
manners, a frank and cordial intercourse had grown up between 
them. By a cartel, mutually agreed upon, each might put to the 
other any question not involving a third person. They w^ere pass- 
ing below the rocky heights of West Point, and in full view of the 
fortress, when Tallmadge asked Andre whether he would have 
taken an active part in the attack on it, should Arnold's plan have 
succeeded. Andre promptly answered in the affirmative; pointed 
out a table of land on the west shore, where he would have landed 
at the head of a select corps, described the route he would have 
taken up the mountain to a height in the rear of Port Putnam, 
overlooking the whole parade of West Point — "and this he did," 
writes Tallmadge, "with much greater exactness than I could 
have done. This eminence he would have reached without diffi- 
culty, as Arnold would have disposed of the garrison in such man- 
ner as to be capable of little or no opposition — and then the key of 
the country would have been in his hands, and he would have 
had the glory of the splendid achievements He ventured to ask 



458 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

what was to have been his reward had he succeeded. " Military 
glory was all he sought. The thanks of his general and the appro- 
bation of his king would have been a rich reward for such an 
undertaking, I think he further remarked, that, if he had suc- 
ceeded, he was to have been promoted to the 7'ajtk of a bj'igadicr- 
ge?teraL" After disembarking at King's Ferry near Stony Point, 
they set off for Tappan under the escort of a body of horse. As 
they approached the Clove, a deep defile in the rear of the High- 
lands, Andre, who rode beside Tallmadge, became solicitous to 
know the opinion of the latter as to what would be the result of his 
capture, and in what hght he would be regarded by General 
Washington and by a military tribunal, should one be ordered. 
Tallmadge evaded the question as long as possible, but being 
urged to a full and explicit reply, gave it, he says, in the following 
words : " I had a much-loved classmate in Yale College, by the 
name of Nathan Hale, who entered the army in 1775. Immedi- 
ately after the battle of Long Island, General Washington wanted 
information respecting the strength, position, and probable move- 
ments of the enemy. Captain Hale tendered his services, went 
over to Brooklyn and was taken, just as he was passing the out- 
posts of the enemy on his return; said I with emphasis — 'Do you 
remember the sequel of the story?' 'Yes,' said Andre. 'He was 
hanged as a spy ! But you surely do not consider his case and 
mine alike?' 'Yes, precisely similar; and similar will be your 
fate.'" ^ "He endeavored," adds Tallmadge, " to answer my 

*Tlie fate of the heroic youth here alluded to, deserves a more ample notice. 
Born in Coventry, Connecticut, June 6th, 1755, he entered Yale College in 1770, 
and graduated with some distinction in September, 1773, having previously 
contracted an engagement of marriage ; not unlike Andre in this respect, who 
wooed his " Ilonora" at eighteen. On quitting college he engaged as a 
teacher, as is common with young men in New England, while studying for a 
profession. His half-formed purpose was to devote himself to the ministry. 
As a teacher of youth, he was eminently skilful, and equally appreciated by 
i)arents and pupils. He became universally popular. "Everybody loved 
ium."said a lady of his acquaintance, "he was so sprightly, intelligent and 
kind, and so handsome," He was teaching at New London,'when an express 
anived, biinging tidings of the outbreak at Lexington, A town meeting was 
called, and Hale was among the most ardent of the speakers, proposing an 
instant march to the scene 01 hostilities, and offering to volunteer, "A sense 
of duty," writes he to his father, "urges me to sacrifice everything for my 
country." He served in the army before Boston as a Lieutenant; prevailed 
on his company to extend their term of service by offering tliem his own i)ay, 
nnd for his good conduct received from Congress the commission of captain. 
He commanded a company in Colonel Knowlton's regiment in the following 
year. After the disastrous battle of Long Island, Washington applied to that 
officer for a competent person to penetrate the enemy's camp, and procure 
intellip;ence of their designs; a service deemed vital in that dispiriting crisis. 
Hale, ni the ardor of patriotism, volunteered for the unenviable enterprise, 
though fully aware of its peril, and the consequences of capture. Assuming 
his old character as schoolmaster, he crossed the sound at night from NorwalK 
to Huntingdon on Long Island, visited the British encampments unsuspected, 
made drawings of the enemy's works, and noted down memoranda in Latin of 
the information he gathered, and then retraced his steps to Huntington, 
wliere a boat was to meet him and convey him back to the Connecticut shore. 
Unfortimately a British guard ship was a"t that time anchored out of view in 
the Sound, and had sent a boat on shore for water. Hale mistook it for the 
expected boat, and did not discover his mistake until he found himself in the 
hands of enemies. He was stripped and searched, the plans and memoranda 
were found concealed in the soles of his shoes, and proved him to be a spy. 
He was conveyed to the guard ship, and thence to New York, where he was 



i.-'So.J ANDR^ CONDEMNED AS A SPY. 459 

remarks, but it was manifest he was more troubled in spirit than I 
had ever seen him before." — The place which had been prepared 
to receive Major Andre, is still pointed out as the " 76 Stone 
House." The caution which Washington had given as to his safe 
keeping, was strictly observed by Col. Scammel, the adjutant- 
general, as may be seen by his orders to the officer of the guards. 
" Major Andre, the prisoner under your guard, is not only an offi- 
cer of distinction in the British army, but a man of infinite art and 
address, who will leave no means unattempted to make his escape 
and avoid the ignominious death which awaits him. You are 
therefore, in addition to your sentries, to keep two officers constantly 
in the room with him, with their swords drawn, whilst the other 
officers who are out of the room are constantly to keep walking 
the entry and around the sentries, to see that they are alert. No 
person whatever is to be permitted to enter the room, or speak with 
him, unless by direction of the commander-in-chief. You are by 
no means to suffer him to go out of the room on any pretext what- 
ever." 

The capture of Andr6 caused a great sensation at New York. 
He was universally popular with the army, and an especial favor- 
ite of Sir Henry Clinton. The latter addressed a letter to Wash- 
ington on the 29th, claiming the release of Andre on the ground 
that he visited Arnold under the sanction of a flag of truce ; and 
was stopped while travelling under Arnold's passports. This 
official demand had no effect on the steady mind of Washington. 
He considered the circumstances under which Andre had been 
taken such as would have justified the most summary proceedings, 
but he determined to refer the case to the examination and decis- 
ion of a board of general officers, which he convened on the 29th 
of Sept., the day after his arrival at Tappan. It was composed of 
six major-generals, Greene, Stirling, St. Clair, Lafayette, R, Howe, 
and Steuben ; and eight brigadiers. Parsons, James Clinton, Knox, 
Glover, Paterson, Hand, Huntingdon, and Stark. Gen. Greene, 
•who vvas well versed in military law, and was a man of sound 
head and kind heart, was president, and Col. John Lawrence, 
judge advocate-general. Col. Alexander Hamilton gives, in let- 
ters to his friends, many interesting particulars concerning the con- 
duce of the prisoner. "When brought before the board of officers," 
writes he, "he met with every mark of indulgence, and was re- 
quired to answer no interrogatory which would even embarrass his 
feelings. On his part, while he carefully concealed everything 
that might implicate others, he frankly confessed all the facts re- 
lating to himself, and upon his confession, without the trouble of 
examining a witness, the board made up their report." It briefly 

landed on the 21st of September, the day of the great fire. He was taken to 
General Howe's headquarters, and, after a brief parley with his judge, 
ordered for execution the next morning at daybreak— a sentence carried out 
by tlie provost marshal, the brutal and infamous Cunningham, who refused 
his request for a Bible, and destroyed a letter he had addressed to his mother, 
for the reason afterwards given by himself, " that tlie rebels should never 
know they had a man who could die with such firnniess." His jjatriot si)ijit 
shone forth in his dying words— "I only regret that 1 have but one life to lose 
for my country." 



46o LIFE OF WASHING TON. 

stated the circumstances of the case, and concluded with the opin- 
ion of the court, that Major Andre, adjutant-general of the British 
army, ought to be considered a spy from the enemy, and agreeably 
to the law and usage of nations, ought to suffer death. In a con- 
versation with Hamilton, Andre acknowledged the candor, liber- 
ahty, and indulgence with which the board had conducted them- 
selves in their painful inquiry. He met the result with manly 
firmness. " I foresee my fate," said he ; "and though I pretend 
not to play the hero, or to be indifferent about life, yet I am recon- 
ciled to whatever may happen ; conscious that misfortune, not 
guilt, has brought it upon me." Even in this situation of gathering 
horrors, he thought of others more than himself. "There is only 
one thing that disturbs my tranquility," said he to Hamilton, 
•' Sir Henry Clinton has been too good to me ; he has been lavish 
of his kindness. I am bound to him by too many obligations, and 
love him too well, to bear the thought that he should reproach 
himself, or others should reproach him, on the supposition of my 
having conceived myself obliged, by his instructions, to run the 
risk I did. I would not for the world leave a sting in his mind 
that should embitter his future days." He could scarce finish the 
sentence ; bursting into tears, in spite of his efforts to suppress 
them, he added : "I wish to be permitted to assure him that I did 
not act under this impression, but submitted to a necessity imposed 
upon me, as conti'ary to my own inclination, as to his wishes." 
He wrote a letter to Sir Henry CHnton to the above purport. He 
made mention also of his mother and three sisters, to whom the 
value of his commission would be an object. [The commission 
was sold by Clinton, for the benefit of Andre's mother and sisters. 
The King, also, settled a pension on the mother.] This letter ac- 
companied one from Washington to Sir Henry CHnton, stating the 
report of the board of inquiry, omitting the sentence. " From 
these proceedings," observes he, " it is evident that Major Andre 
was employed in the execution of measures very foreign to the 
objects of flags of truce, and such as they were never meant to 
authorize in the most distant degree ; and this gentleman confessed 
with the greatest candor, in the course of his examination, that it 
was impossible for him to suppose that he came on shore under the 
sanction of a flag." Capt. Aaron Ogden, of the New Jersey Hue, 
was selected by Washington to bear these despatches to the 
enemy's post at Paulus Hook, thence to be conveyed across the 
Hudson to New York. He called by Washington's request, on 
the Marquis Lafayette, who gave him instructions to sound the 
officer commanding at that post whether Sir Henry Clinton might 
not be willing to dehver up Arnold in exchange for Andre. Ogden 
made the suggestion, as if incidentally, in the course of conversa- 
tion. The officer demanded if he had any authority from Wash- 
ington for such an intimation. "I have no such assurance from 
General Washington," replied he, " but I am prepared to say, 
that if such a proposal were made, I believe it would be accepted, 
and Major Andre set at liberty." The officer communicated the 



1 78o. J WASHING TON IMMO VABLE, 461 

matter to Sir Henry, but the latter instantly rejected the expedient 
as incompatible with honor and military principle. 

The character, appearance, deportment and fortunes of Andre, 
had interested the feehngs of the oldest and sternest soldiers 
around him, and completely captivated the sympathies of the 
younger ones. He was treated with the greatest respect and kind- 
ness throughout his confinement, and his table was supplied from 
that of the commander-in-chief. Hamilton, who was in daily in- 
tercourse with him, describes him as well improved by education 
and travel, with an elegant turn of mind, and a taste for the fine 
arts. He had attained some proficiency in poetry, music, and 
painting. His sentiments were elevated, his elocution was fluent, 
his address easy, polite and engaging, with a softness that concili- 
ated affection. The execution was to have taken place on the ist 
of October, at five o'clock in the afternoon ; but in the interim 
Washington received a second letter from Sir Henry Clinton, 
dated Sept. 30th, expressing an opinion that the board of inquiry 
had not been rightly informed of all the circumstances on which a 
judgment ought to be formed, and that, in order that he might be 
perfectly apprised of the state of the matter before he proceeded 
to put that judgment in execution, he should send a commission 
on the following day, composed of Lieut. -Gov. Elliot, William 
Smith, chief justice of the province, and Lieut.-Gen. Robertson, to 
wait near Dobbs Ferry for permission and safe conduct to meet 
Washington, or such persons as he should appoint to converse 
with them on the subject. This letter caused a postponement of 
the execution, and Gen. Greene was sent to meet the commis- 
sioners at Dobbs Ferry. They came up in the morning of the 1st 
of October, in a schooner, with a flag of truce. A long conference 
took place between Gen. Robertson and Gen. Greene, without any 
agreement of opinion upon the question at issue. Greene returned 
to camp promising to report faithfully to Washington the arguments 
used by Robertson, and to inform the latter of the result. Arnold 
sent a letter to Washington by the commissioners, in which the 
traitor reasserted the right he had possessed, as commanding offi- 
cer of the department, to transact all the matters with which Andre 
was inculpated, and insisted that the latter ought not to suffer for 
them. " But." added he, " if after this just and candid representa- 
tion of Major Andre's case, the board of general officers adhere to 
their former opinion, I shall suppose it dictated by passion and 
resentment ; and if that gentleman should suffer the severity of 
their sentence, I shall think myself bound, by every tie of duty and 
honor, to retaliate on such unhappy persons of your army as may 
fall within my power, that the respect due to flags, and to the laws 
of nations, may be better understood and observed. I have fur- 
ther to observe, that forty of the principal inhabitants of South 
Carolina have justly forfeited their lives, which have hitherto been 
spared by the clemency of his Excellency, Sir Henry Clinton, who 
cannot in justice extend his mercy to them any longer, if Major 
Andre suffers ; which, in all probability, will open a scene of blood 
at which humanity shudders." Beside this impudent and despica- 



462 LIFE OF WASHING TO X. 

ble letter, there was another from Arnold containing the farce of a 
resignation. Greene, in a brief letter to Gen. Robertson, informed 
him that he had made as full a report of their conference to the 
commander-in-chief, as his memory would serve, but that it had 
made no alteration in Washington's opinion and determination. 
During this day of respite Andre had conducted himself with his 
usual tranquility. A hkeness of himself, seated at a table in his 
guard-room, which he sketched with a pen and gave to the officer 
on guard, is still extant. It being announced to him that one 
o'clock on the following day was fixed on for his execution, he 
remarked, that since it was his lot to die there was still a choice in 
the mode ; he therefore addressed the; following note to Washing- 
ton : * * " Sympathy towards a soldier will surely induce your 
Excellency and a military tribunal to adapt the mode of my death 
to the feehngs of a man of honor. Let me hope, sir, that if aught 
in my character impresses you with esteem towards me ; if aught 
in my misfortunes marks me as the victim of pohcy and not of 
resentment, 1 shall experience the operation of these feelings in 
your breast by being informed that I am not to die on a gibbet." 
Had Washington consulted his feelings merely, this affecting 
appeal might not have been in vain, for, though not impulsive, he 
was eminently benevolent. But he had a high and tenacious 
sense of the duties and responsibilities of his position, and never 
more than in this trying moment, when he had to elevate himself 
above the contagious sympathies of those around him, dismiss all 
personal considerations, and regard the peculiar circumstances of 
the case. The long course of insidious operations which had been 
pursued to undermine the loyalty of one of his most trusted officers ; 
the greatness of the evil which the treason would have effected, if 
successful ; the uncertainty how far the enemy had carried, or 
might still be carrying, — their scheme of corruption, pointed this out 
as a case in which a signal example was required. And what 
called for particular indulgence to the agent, if not instigator of this 
enormous crime, who had thus been providentially detected in dis- 
guise, and with the means of its consummation concealed upon his 
person? His errand, said Hon. Henry J. Raymond, at the dedica- 
tion of the Andre monument, '• viewed in the light of morality, and 
even of that chivalry from which modern war pretends to derive 
its maxims, was one of infamy. He had been commissioned to 
buy with gold what steel could not conquer ; to drive a bargain 
with one ready for a price to become a traitor ; to count out the 
thirty pieces of silver by which British generals and British gentle- 
men were not ashamed to purchase the betrayal of a cause, whose 
shining virtue repelled their power, and dimmed the glory of their 
arms." Even the language of traffic in which this negotiation had 
been carried on between the pseudo-Gustavus and John Anderson, 
had something ignoble and debasing to the chivalrous aspirant 
who stooped to use it ; especially when used as a crafty covering 
in bargaining for a man's soul. It has been alleged in Andre's 
behalf, as a mitigating circumstance, that he was involuntarily a 
spy. It is true, he did not come on shore in borrowed garb, nor 



1780.] AXDRP. DIES OA A G/Bnj:7\ 463 

with a design to pass himself off for another, and procure secret 
information ; but he came, under cloak of midnight, in supposed 
safety, to effect the betrayal of a holy trust ; and it was his undue 
eagerness to secure the objects of this clandestine interview, that 
brought him into the condition of an undoubted spy. It certainly 
should not soften our view of his mission, that he embarked in it 
without intending to subject himself to danger. A spice of danger 
would have given it a spice of heroism, however spurious. When 
the rendezvous was first projected, he sought, through an indirect 
channel, to let Arnold know that he would come out with a flag. 
(We allude to a letter written by him from New York on the 7th of 
Sept., under his feigned signature, to Col. Sheldon; evidently 
intended to be seen by Arnold. " I will endeavor to obtain per- 
mission to go out with a flag.") If an interview had taken place 
under that sacred protection, and a triumphant treason had been 
the result, what a brand it would have affixed to Andre's name, 
that he had prostituted a flag of truce to such an end. But 
although Andre's request as to the mode of his death was not to be 
granted, it was thought best to let him remain in uncertainty on 
the subject. On the morning of the 2d, he maintained a calm 
demeanor, though all around him were gloomy and silent Hav- 
ing breakfasted, he dressed himself with care in the full uniform of 
a British officer, placed his hat upon the table, and accosting the 
officer on guard — •" I am ready," said he, " at any moment, gen- 
tlemen, to wait upon you." He walked to the place of execution 
between two subaltern officers, arm in arm, with a serene counte- 
nance, bowing to several gentlemen whom he knew. Col. Tall- 
madge accompanied him, and we quote his words. " When he 
came in sight of the gibbet, he appeared to be startled, and 
inquired with some emotion whether he was not to be shot. 
Being informed that the mode first appointed for his death could 
not consistently be altered, he exclaimed, * How hard is my fate ! * 
but immediately added, 'it will soon be over.' I then shook 
hands with him under the gallows, and retired." While waiting 
near the gallows until preparations were made, he evinced some 
nervousness, putting his foot on a stone and rolling it ; and making 
an effort to swallow, as if checking an hysterical affection of the 
throat. All things being ready, he stepped into the wagon. Tak- 
ing off his hat and stock, and opening his shirt collar, he delib- 
erately adjusted the noose to his neck, after which he took out a 
handkerchief, and tied it over his eyes. Being told by the officer 
in command that his arms must be bound, he drew out a second 
handkerchief, with which they were pinioned. Col. Scammel now 
told him that he had an opportunity to speak, if he desired to. His 
only reply was, " I pray you to bear witness that I meet my fate 
like a brave man." The wagon moved from under him, and left 
him suspended. He died almost without a struggle. He remained 
suspended for about half an hour, during which time a deathlike 
stillness prevailed over the surrounding multitude. His remains 
were interred within a few yards of the place of his execution, 
whence they were transferred to England in 1821, by the British 



464 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

consul, then resident in New York, and were buried in Westmin- 
ster Abbey, near a mural monument which had been erected to his 
memory. Never has any man, suffering under hke circumstances, 
awakened a more universal sympathy. His story is one of the 
touching themes of the Revolution, and his name is still spoken of 
•with kindness in the local traditions of the neighborhood where he 
•was captured. — Washington, in a letter to the President of Con- 
gress, passed a high eulogium on the captors of Andre, and recom- 
mended them for a handsome gratuity ; for having, in all proba- 
bility, prevented one of the severest strokes that could have been 
meditated by the enemy. Congress accordingly expressed, in a 
formal vote, a high sense of their virtuous and patriotic conduct; 
awarded to each of them a farm, a pension for life of two hundred 
dollars, and a silver medal, bearing on one side an escutcheon on 
which was engraved the word Fidelity, and on the other side the 
motto, Vincit amor Patrice. These medals were delivered to them 
by General Washington at head-quarters, with impressive cere- 
mony. Isaac Van Wart, one of the captors, had been present at 
the execution of Andre, and was deeply affected by it. He was 
rot fond of recalling the subject, and in after life could rarely 
speak of Andre without tears. Joshua H. Smith, who aided in 
bringing Andre and Arnold together, was tried by a court-martial, 
on a charge of participating in the treason, but was acquitted, no 
proof appearing of his having had any knowledge of Arnold's plot. 
Arnold was now made brigadier-general in the British service, 
and put on an official level with honorable men who scorned to 
associate with the traitor. What golden reward he was to have 
received had his treason been successful, is not known ; but six 
thousand three hundred and fifteen pounds sterling were paid to 
him, as a compensation for losses which he pretended to have suf- 
fered in going over to the enemies of his country. The vilest cul- 
prit, however, shrinks from sustaining the obloquy of his crimes. 
Shortly after his arrival in New York, Arnold published an address 
to the Inhabitants of America, in which he endeavored to vindicate 
his conduct. He alleged that he had originally taken up arms 
merely to aid in obtaining a redress of grievances. He had con- 
sidered the Declaration of Independence precipitate, and the 
reasojis for it obviated by the subsequent proffers of the British 
government ; and he inveighed against Congress for rejecting 
those offers, without submitting them to the people. Finally, the 
treaty with France, a proud, ancient and crafty foe, the enemy of 
the Protestant faith and of real liberty, had completed, he said, the 
measure of his indignation, and determined him to abandon a 
cause sustained by iniquity and controlled by usurpers. He 
issued a proclamation inviting the officers and soldiers of the 
American army, who had the real interest of their country at heart, 
and who were determined to be no longer the tools and dupes of 
Congress, and of France, to rally under the royal standard, and 
fight for true American liberty ; holding out promises of large 
bounties and liberal subsistence, with compensation for all the 
implements and accoutrements of war they might bring with them. 



i/So.] ARNOLD HACKNEYED IN VILLAINY. 46$ 

Speaking of this address, " I am at loss," said Washington, " which 
to admire most, the confidence of Arnold in pubUshing it, or the 
folly of the enemy in supposing that a production signed by so 
infamous a character will have any weight with the people of the 
States, or any influence upon our officers abroad." He was right. 
Both the address and the proclamation were regarded by Ameri- 
cans with the contempt they merited. Col. John Laurens, former 
aide-de-camp to Washington, in speaking of Andre's fate, observed, 
•' Arnold must undergo a punishment comparatively more severe, 
in the permanent, increasing torment of a mental hell." Wash- 
ington doubted it. " He wants feeling," said he. " From some 
traits of his character which have lately come to my knowledge, 
he seems to have been so hackneyed in villainy, and so lost to all 
sense of honor and shame, tnat, while his faculties will enable him 
to continue his sordid pursuits, there will be no time for remorse." 
And in a letter to Gov. Reed, he writes, "Arnold's conduct is so 
villainously perfidious, that there are no terms that can describe the 
baseness of his heart. That overruling Providence which has so 
often and so remarkably interposed in our favor, never manifested 
itself more conspicuously than in the timely discovery of his horrid 
intention to surrender the post and garrison of West Point into the 
hands of the enemy." The confidence and folly which have 
marked the subsequent conduct of this man, are of a piece with his 
villainy, and all three are perfect in their kind." 

Mrs. Arnold, on arriving at her father's house in Philadelphia, 
had decided on a separation from her husband, to whom she 
could not endure the thought of returning after his dishonor. This 
course, however, was not allowed her. The executive council, 
wrongfully suspecting her of having aided in the correspondence 
between her husband and Andre, knowing its treasonable ten- 
dency, ordered her to leave the State within fourteen days, and 
not to return during the continuance of the war. "We tried every 
means," writes one of her connections, "to prevail on the council 
to permit her to stay among us, and not compel her to go to that 
infernal villain, her husband. Mr. Shippen (her father) had 
promised the council, and Mrs. Arnold had signed a writing to the 
same purpose, engaging not to write to Arnold any letters without 
showing them to the council, if she was permitted to stay." It 
was all in vain, and, strongly against her will, she rejoined her 
husband in New York. While the whole country resounded with 
execrations of his guilt ; while his effigy was dragged through 
the streets of town and village, burnt at the stake, or swung on the 
gibbet, she passed on secure from injury or insult. The execra- 
tions of the populace were silenced at her approach. Arriving at 
nightfall at a village where they were preparing for one of these 
burnings in effigy, the pyre remained unkindled, the people dis- 
persed quietly to their homes, and the wife of the traitor was suf- 
fered to sleep in peace. She returned home but once, about five 
years after her exile, and was treated with such coldness and neg- 
lect that she declared she never could come again. In England 
her charms and virtues, it is said, procured her svmpathy and 



466 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

friendship, and helped to sustain the social position of her hus- 
band, who, however, was "generally slighted, and sometimes 
insulted." She died in London, in the winter of 1796. — We have 
been induced to enter thus largely into the circumstances of this 
story, from the undiminished interest taken in it by the readers of 
American history. Indeed, a romance has been thrown around 
the memory of the unfortunate Andre, which increases with the 
progress of years ; while the name of Arnold will stand sadly con- 
spicuous to the end of time, as the only American officer of note, 
throughout all the trials and vicissitudes of the Revolution, who 
proved traitor to the glorious cause of his country. 

As the enemy would now possess the means, through Arnold, of 
informing themselves thoroughly about West Point, Washington 
hastened to have the works completed and strongly garrisoned. 
He took post with his main army, at Prakeness, near Passaic Falls 
in New Jersey. Gen. Gates' late defeat at Camden had withered 
the laurels snatched at Saratoga. As in the one instance he had 
received exaggerated praise, so in the other, he suffered undue 
censure. The sudden annihilation of an army from which so 
much had been expected, and the retreat of the general before the 
field was absolutely lost, appeared to demand a strict investiga- 
tion. Congress therefore passed a resolution (Oct. 5th), requiring 
Washington to order a court of inquiry into the conduct of Gates 
as commander of the Southern army, and to appoint some other 
officer to the command until the inquiry should be made. Wash- 
ington at once selected Greene for the important trust, the well- 
tried officer whom he would originally have chosen, had his opinion 
been consulted, when Congress so unadvisedly gave the command 
to Gates. His letter of instructions to Greene (Oct. 22d) showed 
the implicit confidence he reposed in the abilities and integrity of 
that excellent officer. "Uninformed as I am," writes he, " of 
the enemy's force in that quarter, of our own, or of the resources 
which it will be in our power to command, for carrying on the 
war, I can give you no particular instructions, but must leave you 
to govern yourself entirely according to your own prudence and 
judgment, and the circumstances in which you find yourself." 
The court of inquiry was to be conducted in the quarter in which 
Gates had acted, where all the witnesses were, and where alone 
the requisite information could be obtained. Baron Steuben was 
to preside, and the members of the court were to be such general 
and field-officers of *the Continental troops as were not present at 
the battle of Camden, or, having been present, were not wanted 
as witnesses, or were persons to whom Gates had no objection. 

Ravaging incursions from Canada had harassed the northern' 
parts of the State of New York of late, and laid desolate some 
parts of the country from which Washington had hoped to receive 
great supplies of flour for the armies. Major Carleton, a nephew 
of Sir Guy, at the head of a motley force, European, Tory, and 
Indian, had captured Forts Anne and George. Sir John Johnson 
also, with Joseph Brant, and a mongrel half-savage crew, had 
laid waste the fertile region of the Mohawk River, and burned 



1780.] CONFIDENCE INSPIRED BY VIRTUE. 467 

the villages of Schoharie and Caughnawaga. The greatest alarm 
prevailed throughout the neighboring country. The marauders 
had been encountered and driven back by Gen. Van Rensselaer 
and the mihtia of those parts ; not, however, until they had nearly 
destroyed the settlements on the Mohawk, Washington now put 
Brig. Gen. James Clinton (the governor's brother) in command of 
the Northern department. The state of the army was growing 
more and more a subject of solicitude to the commander-in-chief. 
He felt weary of strugghng on, with such scanty means, and such 
vast responsibihty. The campaign, which, at its commencement, 
had seemed pregnant with favorable events, had proved sterile and 
inactive, and was drawing to a close. The short terms for which 
most of the troops were enlisted must soon expire, and then the 
present army would be reduced to a mere shadow. The Marquis 
Lafayette at this time commanded the advance guard of Washing- 
ton's army, composed of six battalions of hght-infantry. They 
were better clad than the other soldiery; in trim uniforms, leathern 
helmets, with crests of horse-hair. The officers were armed with 
spoiitoons, the non-commissioned officers with fusees ; both with 
short sabres which the marquis had brought from France, and 
presented to them. He was proud of his troops, and had a young 
man's ardor for active service. At this juncture, the Marquis de 
Chastellux arrived in camp. He was on a tour of curiosity, while 
the French troops at Rhode Island w^ere in winter-quarters, and 
came on the invitation of his relative, the Marquis Lafayette, who 
was to present him to Washington. In after years he pubhshed 
an account of his tour, in which we have graphic sketches of the 
camp and the commanders. He arrived with his aides-de-camp 
on the afternoon of Nov. 23d, and sought the headquarters of the 
commander-in-chief. They were in a large farm house. There 
was a spacious tent in the yard before it for the general, and 
several smaller tents in an adjacent field for his guards. Every- 
thing was in perfect order. As De Chastellux rode up, he observed 
Lafayette in front of the house, conversing with an officer, tall of 
stature, with a mild and noble countenance. It was Washington. 
De Chastellux alighted and was presented by Lafayette. His 
reception was frank and cordial. Washington conducted him into 
the house. Dinner was over, but Generals Knox, Wayne, and 
Howe, and Colonels Hamilton, Tilghman, and other officers, were 
still seated round the board. Washington introduced De Chastel- 
lux to them, and ordered a repast for the former and his aides-de- 
camp: all remained at table, and a few glasses of claret and 
Maderia promoted sociability. The marquis soon found himself 
at his ease with Washington. "The goodness and benevolence 
which characterize him," observes he, " are felt by all around him; 
but the confidence he inspires is never famihar ; it springs from a 
profound esteem for his virtues, and a great opinion of his talents." 
The next morning, horses were led up after breakfast ; they were 
to review the troops and visit Lafayette's encampment seven miles 
distant. The horses which De Chastellux and Washington rode, 
had been presented to the latter by the State of Virginia. There 



468 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

were fine blood horses also for the aides-de-camp. "Washing- 
ton's horses," writes De Chastellux, " are as good as they are 
beautiful, and all perfectly trained. He trains them all himself. 
He is a very good and a very hardy cavalier, leaping the highest 
barriers, and riding very fast, without rising in the stirrups, bearing 
on the bridle, or suffering his horse to run as if wild." Speaking 
of his personal appearance, he writes: " His form is noble and 
elevated, well-shaped and exactly proportioned ; his physiognomy 
mild and agreeable, but such, that one does not speak in particular 
of any one of his traits ; and that in quitting him there remains 
simply the recollection of a fine countenance. His air is neither 
grave nor familiar ; one sees sometimes on his forehead the marks 
of thought, but never of inquietude ; while inspiring respect he 
inspires confidence, and his smile is always that of benevolence. 
Above ail, it is interesting, to see him in the midst of the general 
officers of his army. General in a republic, he has not the impos- 
ing state of a marshal of France who gives the order ; hero in a 
repubhc, he excites a different sort of respect, which seems to 
originate in this sole idea, that the welfare of each individual is 
attached to his person. Brave without temerity ; laborious without 
ambition ; generous without prodigality : noble without pride ; 
virtuous without severity ; he seems always to stop short of that 
limit, where the virtues, assuming colors more vivid, but more 
changeable and dubious, might be taken for defects." 

Major Tallmadge with eighty men, chiefly dismounted dragoons 
of Sheldon's regiment, crossed in boats from the Connecticut shore 
to Long Island, where the Sound was twenty miles wide ; traversed 
the island on the 22d of Nov., surprised Fort George at Coram, 
captured the garrison of fifty-two men, demolished the fort, set 
fire to magazines of forage, nnd recrossed the Sound to Fairfield, 
without the loss of a man. At the end of Nov. the army went 
into winter-quarters ; the Pennsylvania line in the neighborhood 
of Morristown, the Jersey line about Pompton, the New England 
troops at West Point, and the other posts of the Highlands; and 
the New York line was stationed at Albany, to guard against any 
invasion from Canada. The French army remained stationed at 
Newport, excepting the Duke of Lauzun's legion, which was 
cantoned at Lebanon in Connecticut. Washington's headquarters 
were established at New Windsor, on the Hudson. 



CHAPTER XXL 

MOVEMENTS OF CORNWALLIS — TERMINATION OF THE WAR. 

CoRNWALLis having, as he supposed, entirely crushed the 
"rebel cause" in South Carolina, by the defeats of Gates and 
Sumter, remained for some time at Camden, detained by the 
excessive heat of the weather and the sickness of part of his troops, 
broken down by the hardships of campaigning under a southern 



i/So.j HORNET'S NEST OF NORTH CAROLINA. 469 

sun. Immediately after the victory at Camden, he had ordered 
the friends to royalty in North Carolina "to arm and intercept 
the beaten army of Gen. Gates," promising that he would march 
directly to the borders of that province in their support ; he now 
detached Major Patrick Ferguson to its western confines, to keep 
the war ahve in that quarter. His orders were to skirt the moun- 
tain country between the Catawba and the Yadkin, harass the 
whigs, inspirit the tories, and embody the militia under the royal 
banner. This done, he was to repair to Charlotte, the capital of 
Mecklenburg County, where he would find CornwalHs, who 
intended to make it his rendezvous. Should he, however, in the 
course of his tour, be threatened by a superior force, he was imme- 
diately to return to the main army. Cornwallis decamped from 
Camden, and set out for North Carolina. In the subjugation of 
that province, he counted on the cooperation of the troops which 
Clinton was to send to the lower part of Virginia, which, after 
reducing the Virginians to obedience, were to join his lordship's 
standard on the confines of North Carolina. He took post at 
Charlotte, where he had given rendezvous to Ferguson. Mecklen- 
burg, of which this was the capital, was the " heady high-minded" 
country, where the first declaration of independence had been 
made, and his lordship from uncomfortable experience soon pro- 
nounced Charlotte "the Hornet's Nest of North Carolina." The 
surrounding country was wild and rugged, covered with close and 
thick woods, and crossed in every direction by narrow roads. All 
attempts at foraging were worse than useless. The plantations 
were small and afforded scanty supplies. The inhabitants were 
stanch whigs, with the pugnacious spirit of the old Covenanters. 
Instead of remaining at home and receiving the king's money in 
exchange for their produce, they turned out with their rifles, 
stationed themselves in covert places, and fired upon the foraging 
parties ; convoys of provisions from Camden had to fight their 
way, and expresses were shot down and their despatches seized. 
Ferguson was on his way to join Cornwallis when a chance for a 
signal exploit presented itself. An American force under Col. 
Elijah Clarke, of Georgia, was retreating to the mountain districts 
of North Carolina, after an unsuccessful attack upon the British 
post at Augusta. Ferguson resolved to cut off their retreat. Turn- 
ing towards the mountains, he made his way through a rugged 
wilderness and took post at Gilbert-town, a small frontier village of 
log-houses. He had no idea that the marauds of his followers had 
aiTayed the very wilderness against him. " All of a sudden, a 
numerous, fierce and unexpected enemy sprung up in the depths 
of the desert. The scattered inhabitants of the mountains assem- 
bled without noise or warning, under the conduct of six or seven 
of their militia colonels, to the number of six hundred strong, 
daring, well-mounted and excellent horsemen. These were the 
people of the mountains which form the frontiers of the Carolinas 
and Georgia, " mountain men," as they were commonly called, 
a hardy race, half huntsmen, half herdsmen, inhabiting deep 
narrow valleys and fertile slopes, adapted to grazing, watered by 



470 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the coldest of springs and brightest of streams, and cmbosoined 
in mighty forest trees. Being subject to inroads and surprisals 
from the Chickasaws, Cherokees and Creeks, a tacit league existed 
among them for mutual defence, and it only needed, as in the 
present instance, an alarm to be circulated through their settle- 
ments by swift messengers to bring them at once to the point of 
danger. ' A band of '• the wild and fierce " inhabitants of Ken- 
tucky, with men from other settlements west of the Alleghanies, 
had crossed the mountains, led by Colonels Campbell and Boone, 
to pounce upon a quantity of Indian goods at Augusta ; but had 
pulled up on hearing of the repulse of Clarke. The stout yeomen, 
also, of the district of Ninety-Six, roused by the marauds of Fer- 
guson, had taken the field, under the conduct of Col. James 
Williams, of Granville County. Here, too, were hard-riders and 
sharpshooters, from Holston River, Powel's Valley, Botetourt, 
Fincastle, and other parts of Virginia, commanded by Colonels 
Campbell, Cleveland, Shelby and Sevier. Such were the different 
bodies of mountaineers and backwoodsmen, suddenly drawing 
together from various parts to the number of three thousand. 
Ferguson, breaking up his quarters, therefore, pushed for the 
British army, sending messengers ahead to apprise Cornwallis of 
his danger. He had not long vacated Gilbert-town when the 
motley host we have described thronged in. Some were on foot, 
but the greater part on horseback. Some were in homespun garb; 
but the most part in hunting-shirts, occasionally decorated with 
colored fringe and tassels. Each man had his long rifle and hunt- 
ing-knife, his wallet, or knapsack and blanket, and either a buck's 
tail or sprig of evergreen in his hat. Here and there an officer 
appeared in the Continental uniform of blue and buff, but most 
preferred the half-Indian hunting-dress. There was neither tent 
nor tent equipage, neither baggage nor baggage wagon to encum- 
ber the movements of that extemporaneous host. Prompt war- 
riors of the wilderness, with them it was "seize the weapon — 
spring into the saddle — and away! " In going into action, it was 
their practice to dismount, tie their horses to the branches of trees, 
or secure them in some other way, so as to be at hand for use when 
the battle was over, either to pursue a flying enemy, or make their 
own escape by dint of hoof. Being told that PY-rguson had 
retreated by the Cherokee road towards North Carolina, about 
nine hundred of the hardiest and best mounted set out in urgent 
pursuit ; leaving those who were on foot or weakly mounted, to 
follow on as fast as possible. Col. William Campbell, of Virginia, 
having come from the greatest distance, was allowed to have com- 
mand of the whole party. In the evening they arrived at the 
Cowpens, a grazing neighborhood. Here two beeves were killed 
and given to be cut up, cooked and eaten as quick as possible. 
Before those wdio were slow or negligent had half prepared their 
repast, marching orders were given, and all were again in the 
saddle. A rapid and irregular march was kept up all night in 
murky darkness and through a heavy rain. About daybreak they 
crossed Broad River. Not finding the enemy, they halted, lit their 



1 780. ] BA TTL E OF KING S MO UNTA IK. 47 1 

fires, made their morning's meal, and took a brief repose. By 
nine o'clock they were again on the march. The rainy night had 
been succeeded by a bright October morning, and all were in high 
spirits. Ferguson had taken post on the summit of King's Moun- 
tain, about twelve miles distant. This mountain rises out of a 
broken country, and is detached, on the north, from inferior heights 
by a deep valley, so as to resemble an insulated promontory about 
half a mile in length, with sloping sides, excepting on the north. 
It was covered for the most part with lofty forest trees, free from 
underwood, interspersed with boulders and masses of gray rock. 
The forest was sufficiently open to give free passage to horsemen. 
Dismounting at a small stream which runs through a ravine, the 
Americans picketed their horses, formed themselves into three 
divisions of nearly equal size, and prepared to stoim the heights 
on three sides. Campbell, seconded by Shelby, was to lead the 
center division; Sevier with McDowell the right, and Cleveland 
and WilHams the left. The divisions were to scale the mountain 
as nearly as possible at the same time. The fighting directions 
w^ere in frontier style. When once in action, every one must act 
for himself. The men were not to wait for the word of command, 
but to take good aim and fire as fast as possible. When they 
could no longer hold their ground, they were to get behind trees, 
or retreat a little, and return to the fight, but never to go quite off. 
Campbell allowed time for the flanking divisions to move to the 
right and left along the base of the mountain, and take their 
proper distances; he then pushed up in front with the center divi- 
sion, he and Shelby, each at the head of his men. The first firing 
was about four o'clock, when a picket was driven in by Cleveland 
and Williams on the left, and pursued up the mountain. Camp-| 
bell soon arrived within rifle distance of the crest of the mountain, 
whence a sheeted fire of musketry was opened upon him. He 
instantly deployed his men, posted them behind trees, and returned 
the fire w^ith deadly effect. Ferguson, exasperated at being thus 
hunted into this mountain fastness, had been chafing in his rocky 
lair and meditating a furious sally. He now rushed out wath his 
regulars, made an impetuous charge with the bayonet, and dislodg- 
ing his assailants from their coverts, began to drive them down the 
mountain, they not having a bayonet among them. He had not 
proceeded far, when a flanking fire w^as opened by one of the other 
divisions; facing about and attacking this he was again successful, 
when a third fire was opened from another quarter. Thus, as fast 
as one division gave way before the bayonet, another came to its 
relief; while those who had given way rallied and returned to the 
charge. The nature of the fighting ground was more favorable to 
the rifle than the bayonet, and this was a kind of warfare in which the 
frontier men were at home. The elevated position of the enemy also 
was in favor of the Americans, securing them from the danger of 
their own cross-fire. Ferguson found that he was completely in 
the hunter's toils, beset on every side ; but he stood bravely at 
bay, until the ground around him was strewed with the killed and 
wounded, picked off by the fatal rifle. His men were at length 



472 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

broken, and retreated in confusion along the ridge. He galloped 
from place to place endeavoring to rally them, when a rifle ball 
brought him to the ground, and his white horse was seen careering 
down the mountain without a rider. This closed the bloody fight ; 
for Ferguson's second in command, seeing all further resistance 
hopeless, hoisted a white flag, beat a parley and sued for quarters. 
One hundred and fifty of the enemy had fallen and as many been 
wounded; wliile of the Americans, but twenty were killed, though 
a considerable number were wounded. Among those slain was 
Col. James Williams, who had commanded the troops of Ninety- 
Six, and proved himself one of the most daring of the partisan 
leaders. Eight hundred and ten men were taken prisoners, one 
hundred of whom were regulars, the rest royalists. The rancor 
awakened by civil war was shown in the treatment of some of the 
prisoners. A court-martial was held the day after the batde, and 
a number of tory prisoners who had been bitter in their hostihty to 
the American cause, and flagidous in their persecution of their 
countrymen, were hanged. This was to revenge the death of 
American prisoners hanged at Camden and elsewhere. The army 
of mountaineers and fronder men did not attempt to follow up 
their signal blow. They had no general scheme, no plan of cam- 
paign ; it was the spontaneous rising of the sons of the soil, to 
revenge it on its invaders, and, having effected their purpose, they 
returned in triumph to their homes. They were little aware of the 
importance of their achievement. The battle of King's Mountain, 
inconsiderable as it was in the numbers engaged, turned the tide 
of Southern warfare. The destruction of Ferguson and his corps 
gave a complete check to the expedidon of Cofnwallis. He began 
to fear for the safety of South Carolina, liable to such sudden 
erupdons from the mountains; lest, while he was facing to the 
north, these hordes of stark-riding warriors might throw themselves 
behind him, and produce a popular combustion in the province he 
had left. He resolved, therefore, to return with all speed to that 
province and provide for its security. On the 14th of October he 
commenced his retrograde and mordfying march, conducing it in 
the night, and with such hurry and confusion, that nearly twenty 
wagons, laden with baggage and supplies, were lost. As he pro- 
ceeded, the rainy season set in; the brooks and rivers became 
swollen, and almost impassable; the roads deep and miry; provis- 
ions and forage scanty; the troops generally sickly, having no 
tents. Cornwallis himself was seized with a bilious fever, which 
obliged him to halt two days in the Catawba settlement, and after- 
wards to be conveyed in a wagon, giving up the command to Lord 
Rawdon, The Bridsh suffered as usual from the vengeance of an 
outraged country, being fired upon from behind trees and other 
coverts by the yeomanry; their sentries shot down at their encamp- 
ments; their foraging pardes cut off. For two weeks were they 
toiling tiirough deep roads, and a country cut up by water-courses, 
witli the very elements arrayed against them. At length, after 
fording the Catawba, where it was six hundred yards wide, and 
three and a half deep, and where a handful of riflemen might have 



i/8i.] FRANCIS MARION THE SWAMP FOX. 473 

held them in check, the army arrived at Winnsborough, in South 
Carolina. 

The victory at King's Mountain had set the partisan spirit 
throughout the country in a blaze. Francis Marion was soon in 
the field. He had been made a brigadier-general by Gov. Rut- 
ledge, but his brigade, as it was called, was formed of neighbors 
and friends, and was continually fluctuating in numbers. He was 
nearly fifty years of age, and small of stature, but hardy, healthy, 
and vigorous. Brave but not braggart, never avoiding danger, 
but never rashly seeking it. Taciturn and abstemious; a strict 
disciplinarian; careful of the lives of his men, but little mindful of 
his own. Just in his dealings, free from everything selfish or mer- 
cenary, and incapable of a meanness. He had his haunts and strong- 
holds in the morasses of the Pedee and Black Rivers. His men 
were hardy and abstemious as himself ; they ate their meat without 
salt, often subsisted on potatoes, were scantily clad, and almost 
destitute of blankets. Marion was full of stratagems and expedi- 
ents. Sallying forth from his morasses, he would overrun the 
lower districts, pass the Santee, beat up the small posts in the 
vicinity of Charleston, cut up the communication between that city 
and Camden; and having struck some signal blow, so as to rouse 
the vengeance of the enemy, would retreat again into his fenny fast- 
nesses. Hence the British gave him the bye name of the Swamp 
Fox, but those of his countrymen who knew his courage, his lofti- 
ness of spirit and spotless integrity, considered him the Bayard of 
the South. Tarleton undertook to draw the swamp fox from his 
qover. He marched cautiously down the east bank of the Wateree 
with a body of dragoons and infantry in compact order. The fox, 
however, kept close; he saw that the enemy w^as too strong for him. 
Tartleton now changed his plan. By day he broke up his force 
into small detachments or patrols, giving them orders to keep near 
enough to each other to render mutual support if attacked, and to 
gather together at night. The artifice had its effect. Marion sal- 
lied forth from his cover just before daybreak to make an attack 
upon one of these detachments, when, to his surprise, he found 
himself close upon the British camp. Perceiving the snare that 
had been spread for him, he made a rapid retreat. A close pur- 
suit took place. For seven hours Marion was hunted from one 
swamp and fastness to another; when an express came spurring 
from Cornwallis, calling for the immediate services of Tarleton in 
another quarter. Sumter was again in the field ! That indefatiga- 
ble partisan having recruited a strong party in the mountainous 
country, to which he retreated after his defeat on the Wateree, had 
reappeared on the west side oT the Santee, repulsed a British party 
sent against him, killing its leader; then, crossing Broad River, 
had effected a junction with Colonels Clark and Brannan, and 
now menaced the British posts in the district of Ninety-Six. Tar- 
leton, advancing with his accustomed celerity, thought to surprise 
Sumter on the Enoree River. The latter pushed across the river, 
but was hotly pursued, and his rear-guard roughly handled. He 



474 LIFE CF WASH J XG TON. 

now made for the Tyger River, noted for turbulence and rapidit>'; 
Tarleton spurred forward in advance of his main body with one 
hundred and seventy dragoons and eighty mounted men of the 
infantry. Before five o'clock (Nov. 20) his advance guard overtook 
ajid charged the rear of the Americans. Sumter took post on Black 
Stock Kill, with a rivulet and rail fence in front, the Tyger River in 
the rear and on tne right flank, and a large log barn on the left. The 
barn was turned into a fortress, and a part of the force stationed in 
it to fire through the apj^ertures between the logs. Tarleton halted 
on an opposite height to await the arrival of his infantry, and a 
part of his men dismounted to ease their horses. Sumter seized 
this moment for an attack. He was driven back after some sharp 
fighting. The enemy pursued, but were severely galled by the fire 
from the log barn. Enraged at seeing his nien shot down, Tarle- 
ton charged with his cavalry, but found it impossible to dislodge 
the Americans from their rustic fortress. At the approach of 
night he fell back to join his infantry, leaving the ground strewed 
with his killed and wounded. The latter were treated with great 
humanity by Sumter. The loss of the .Americans was only three 
killed and four wounded. Sumter, who had received a severe 
\vound in the breast, remained several hours on the field of action; 
but crossed the Tyger River in the night. He was then placed on 
a litter between tw o horses, and thus conducted across the country 
by a few faithful adherents. The rest of his httle army dispersed 
themselves tlirough the woods. 

While the attention of the enemy was thus engaged by the 
enterprises of Sumter and Marion and their swamp warriors, Gen. 
Gates was gathering together the scattered fragments of his army 
at Hillsborough. When all were collected, his whole force, exclu- 
sive of militia, did not exceed fourteen hundred men. His troops, 
disheartened by defeat, were in a forlorn state, without clothing, 
without pay, and sometimes without provisions. His vanity was 
completely cut down by his late reverses. He had lost, too, the 
confidence of his cfiicers, and was unable to maintain disciphne 
among his men. On the retreat of CornwaUis from Charlotte, he 
advanced to that place t") make it his winter-quarters. Gen. 
Greene arrived at Charlotte on the 2d of December. He had left 
the Baron Steuben in Virginia to defend that State and procure 
and send on reinforcements and stores for the Southern army. On 
the day following his arrival, Greene took formal command. Con- 
sulting with his officers as to the court of inquir>' on the conduct of 
Gen. Gates, ordered by Congress, it was determined that there was 
not a sufficient number of general officers in camp to sit upon it; 
that the state of Gen. Gates's feelings, in consequence of the recent 
death of an only son, disqualified him from entering upon the 
task of his defence; and that it would be indelicate in the extreme 
to press on him an investigadon, which his honor would not per- 
mit him to defer. Greene, in a letter to Washington (Dec. 7th), 
writes: "General Gates sets out to-morrow for the northward. 
Many officers think very favorably of his conduct and that, when- 



1781.] GENERAL GREEAE SUPERSEDES GATES. 475 

ever an inquiry takes place, he will honorably acquit himself." 
Gates retired with a lightened heart to his farm in Berkeley County, 
Virginia. 

The whole force at Charlotte, when Greene took command, did 
not much exceed twenty-three hundred men, and more than half 
of them were militia. The state of the country in which he was 
to act was equally discouraging. "It is so extensive," said he, 
"and the powers of government so weak, that everybody does 
as he pleases. The inhabitants are much divided in their political 
sentiments, and the whigs and tories pursue each other with lit- 
tle less than savage fury. The back country people are bold 
and daring; but the people upon the sea-shore are sickly, and but 
indifferent militia." A recent exploit had given some animation to 
the troops. Lieut. -Col. Washington, detached with a troop of 
light-horse to check a foraging paty of the enemy, scoured the 
country within thirteen miles of Camden. Here he found a body 
of loyalist militia strongly posted at Clermont, the seat of Colonel 
Rugeley, their tory commander. They had ensconced themselves 
in a large barn, built of logs, and had fortified it by a slight 
intrenchment and a line of abatis. To attack it with cavalry 
was useless. Col. Washington dismounted part of his troops to 
appear hke infantry; placed on two wagon-wheels the trunk of a 
pine-tree, shaped and painted to look like a field-piece, brought it 
to bear upon the enemy, and, displaying his cavalry, sent in a flag 
summoning the garrison to surrender instantly, on pain of having 
their log castle battered about their ears. The garrison, to the 
number of one hundred and twelve men, with Col. Rugeley at their 
head, gave themselves up prisoners of war. 

The first care of Gen. Greene was to reorganize his army, and 
it soon began to assume what he termed a military complexion. 
Finding the country round Charlotte exhausted by repeated forag- 
ings, he separated the army into two divisions. One, about one 
thousand strong, was commanded by Brig.-Gen. Morgan, of rifle 
renown, and was composed of four hundred Continental infantry, 
under Lieut.-Col. Howard of the Maryland line, two companies of 
Virginia militia under Captains Tripplet and Tate, and one hun- 
dred dragoons, under Lieut.-Col. Washington. With these Mor- 
gan was detached towards the district of Ninety-Six, in South 
Carolina, with orders to take a position near the confluence of the 
Pacolet and Broad Rivers, and assemble the militia of the coun- 
try. With the other division, Greene made a march of toilful 
difficulty through a barren country to Hicks' Creek, in Chester- 
field district, on the east side of the Pedee River, opposite the 
Cheraw Hills. 

As Washington beheld one hostile armanent after another wing- 
ing its way to the South, and received apphcations from that quar- 
ter for assistance which he had not the means to furnish, it became 
painfully apparent to him, that the efforts to carry on the war had 
exceeded the natural capabilities of the country. Its widely dif- 
fused population, and the composition and temper of some of its 



4-6 LIFE OF WASHIXGTOX. 

people, rendered it difficult to draw together its resources. Com- 
merce was almost extinct; there was not sufficient natural wealth 
on which to found a revenue ; paper currency had depreciated 
through want of funds for its redemption, until it was nearly 
worthless. The mode of supplying the army by assessing a pro- 
portion of the productions of the earth, had proved ineffectual, 
oppressive, and productive of an alaniiing opposition. Domestic 
loans yielded but trifling assistance. Washington's earnest coun- 
sels and entreaties were at length successful in determining Con- 
gress to seek aid both in men and money from abroad. Accord- 
ingly, on the 2Sth of December they commissioned Lieut.-Col. 
John Laurens, special minister at the court of Versailles, to apply 
for such aid. The situation he had held, as aid-de-camp to the 
commander-in-chief, had given him an opportunity of observing 
the course of affairs, and acquainting himself with the wants and 
resources of the country. Washington advised him to solicit a loan 
sufficiently large to be a foundation for substantial arrangements of 
finance, to revive public credit, and give vigor to future operations; 
— next to a loan of money, a naval force was to be desired, sufficient 
to maintain a constant superiority on the American coast ; also addi- 
tional succor in troops. He was to show the ample means pos- 
sessed by the nation to repay the loan, from its comparative free- 
dom from debt, and its vast and valuable tracts of unsettled lands, 
the variety and fertility of its climates and soils, and its advantages 
of every kind for a lucrative commerce, and rapid increase of 
population and prosp)erity. 

The first day of the New Year anived. The men were excited 
by an extra allowance of ardent spirits. In the evening, at a pre- 
concerted si_2:nal, a great part of the Pennsylvania line, non-com- 
missioned officers included, turned out under arms, declaring their 
intention to march to Philadelphia, and demand redress from Con- 
gress. Wayne endeavored to pacify them; they were no longer to 
be pacified bywords. He cocked his pistols; in an instant their 
bayonets were at his breast. "We love, we respect you," cried 
they, "but you are a dead man if you fire. Do not mistake us ; 
we are not going to the enemy : were they now to come out, you 
Avould see us fight under your orders with as much resolution and 
alacrity as ever." In an attempt to suppress the mutiny there was 
a bloody affray, in which numbers were wounded on both sides ; 
among: whom were several officers. The mutineers, to the number 
of about thineen hundred, seized upon six field-pieces, and set out 
in the night for Philadelphia under command of their sergeants. 
Wayne was net "Mad Anthony" on the present occasion. All 
liis measures v.-ere taken with judgment and forecast. He sent 
provisions after the mutineers, lest they should supply their wants 
from the country' people by force. He sent a despatch with news 
of the outbreak to Washington; and then set off after the muti- 
neers, to seek ever>' occasion to exert a favorable influence over 
them, Washington received Wayne's letter at his headquarters at 
New Windsor on the 3d of January. He wrote to him, approving 
of his intention to keep with the troops, and improve every favor- 



1/81.] MUTINY IN THE ARMY, 477 

able interval of passion. His letter breathes that paternal spirit 
with which he watched over the army; and tliat admirable moder- 
ation mingled with discipUne with which he managed and moulded 
their wayward moods. "Opposition," said he, "as it did not suc- 
ceed in the first instance, cannot be effectual while the men remain 
together, but will keep ahve resentment. I would therefore, 
recommend it to you to cross the Delaware with them, draw from 
them what they conceive to be their principal grievances, and 
promise faithfully to represent to Congress and to the State the 
substance of them, and endeavor to obtain a redress." How 
clearly one reads in this letter that temperate and magnanimous 
spirit which moved over the troubled waters of the Revolution, al- 
layed the fury of the storms, and controlled everything into peace. 
CHnton received intelligence at New York of the mutiny, and has- 
tened to profit by it. Emissaries were despatched to the camp of 
the mutineers, holding out offers of pardon, protection, and ample 
pay,4f they would return to their allegiance to the crown. On 
the 4th of Jan., although the rain poured in torrents, troops and 
cannon were hurried on board of vessels of every description and 
transported to Staten Island, Sir Henry accompanying them. 
There they were to be held in readiness, either to land at Amboy 
in the Jerseys, should the revolters be drawn in that direction, or 
to make a dash at West Point, should the departure of Washing- 
ton leave that post assailable. Gen. Wayne had overtaken the 
insurgent troops on the 3d of January, at Middlebrook, and held con- 
ferences with sergeants delegated from each regiment. They 
appeared to be satisfied with the mode and promises of redress 
held out to them ; but the main body of the mutineers persisted in 
revolt, and proceeded on the next day to Princeton. The news 
of the revolt caused great consternation in Philadelphia. A com- 
mittee of Congress set off to meet the insurgents, accompanied by 
Reed, the President of Pennsylvania, and one or two other officers, 
and escorted by a city troop of horse. At this critical juncture, 
two of Sir Henry's emissaries arrived in the camp, and delivered 
to the leaders of the malcontents, a paper containing his seductive 
proposals and promises. The mutineers, though openly arrayed 
in arms against their government, spurned at the idea of turning 
"Arnolds," as they termed it. The emissaries were seized and 
conducted to Gen, Wayne, who placed them in confinement. 
The propositions offered to the troops by President Reed were : — 
To discharge all those who had enlisted indefinitely for three 
years or during the war; the fact to be inquired into by three com- 
missioners appointed by the executive — where the original enlist- 
ment could not be produced in evidence, the oath of the soldier to 
suffice. To give immediate certificates for the deficit in their pay 
caused by the depreciation of the currency, and the arrearages to 
be settled as soon as circumstances would permit. To furnish 
them immediately with certain specified articles of clothing which 
were most wanted. These propositions proving satisfactory, the 
troops set out for Trenton, where the negotiation was concluded. 
The two spies who had tampered with the fidelity of the troops 



478 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

were tried by a court-martial, found guilty, and hanged near Tren- 
ton. On the 2oth of January, a part of the Jersey troops, sta- 
tioned at Pompton, rose in arms, claiming the same terms just 
yielded to the Pennsylvanians. In this instance, Washington 
adopted a more rigorous course than in the other. The present 
insurgents were mostly foreigners, for whom he felt' less sympathy 
than for native troops. He was convinced too of the fidelity of 
the troops under his immediate command, who were from the 
Eastern States. A detachment from the Massachusetts line was 
sent under Major-General Howe, who was instructed to compel 
the mutineers to unconditional submission; to grant them no terms 
while in aims, or in a state of resistance ; and on their surrender, 
instantly to execute a few of the most active and incendiary lead- 
ers. Howe had the good fortune, after a tedious night march, to 
surprise the mutineers napping in their huts just at daybreak. 
Five minutes only were allowed them to parade without their 
arms and give up their ringleaders. This was instantly complied 
with, and two of them were executed on the spot. The mutiny 
was quelled, the officers resumed their command, and all things 
were restored to order. Thus terminated an insurrection, which, 
for a time, had spread alarai among the friends of American lib- 
erty, and excited the highest hopes of its foes. The circumstances 
connected with it had ultimately a beneficial effect in strengthen- 
ing the confidence of those friends, by proving that, however the 
Americans might quarrel with their own government, nothing 
could again rally them under the royal standard. 

A gi-eat cause of satisfaction to Washington was the ratification of 
the articles of confederation between the States, which took place not 
long after this agitating juncture. A set of articles had been submit- 
ted to Congress by Dr. Franklin, as far back as 1775. A form had 
been prepared and digested by a committee in 1776, and agreed 
upon, with some modifications in 1777, but had ever since 
remained in abeyance, in consequence of objections made by indi- 
vidual States. The confederation was now complete, and Wash- 
ington, in a letter to the President of Congress, congratulated 
him and the body over which he presided, on an event long wished 
for, and which he hoped would have the happiest effects upon the 
politics of this country, and be of essential service to our cause in 
Europe. It was, after all, an instrument far less efficacious than 
its advocates had anticipated ; but it served an important purpose 
in binding the States together as a nation, and keeping them from 
falling asunder into individual powers, after the pressure of exter- 
nal danger should cease to operate. 

Benedict Arnold, now a brigadier-general in the enemy's service, 
sailed from New York, Dec. 20th, with a detachment of seventeen 
hundred British, German and refugee troops, to make an incursion 
into Virginia, destroy the public magazines, and cooperate with 
Cornwallis. His ships were tempest-tost and scattered, and half 
of his cavalry horses and several of his guns had to be thrown 
overboard. It was the close of the year when he anchored in 
the Chesapeake. Virginia, at the time, was almost in a defence- 



1781.] THE TRAITOR IN VIRGINIA. 479 

less state. Baron Steuben, who had the general command there, 
had recently detached such of his regular troops as were clothed 
and equipped, to the South to reinforce Gen. Greene. The 
remainder, five or six hundred in number, were scarcely fit to 
take the field. Gov. Jefferson, on hearing of the arrival of the 
fleet, called out the militia from the neighboring counties; but 
few could be collected on the spur of the moment, for the whole 
country was terror-stricken and in confusion. Having land and 
sea forces at his command, Arnold opened the new year with a 
buccaneering ravage. Ascending James River with some small 
vessels which he had captured, he landed on the 4th of January 
with nine hundred men at Westover, about twenty-five miles 
below Richmond, and pushed for the latter place, at that time 
little more than a village, though the metropolis of Virginia. 
Halting for the night within twelve miles of it, he advanced on 
the following day with as much military parade as possible. 
Gov. Jefferson got back by noon to Manchester, on the opposite 
side of James River, in time to see Arnold's marauders march 
into the town. Many of the inhabitant's had fled to the country; 
some stood terrified spectators on the hills ; not more than two 
hundred men were in arms for the defence of the place; these, 
after firing a few volleys, retreated to Richmond and Shockoe 
Hills, Avhence they were driven by the cavalry, and Arnold had 
possession of the capital. He sent some of the citizens to the 
governor, offering to spare the town, provided his ships might come 
up James River to be laden with tobacco from the warehouses. 
His offer was indignantly rejected, whereupon fire was set to the 
public edifices, stores, and workshops; private houses w^ere pil- 
laged, and a great quantity of tobacco consumed. While this 
vvas going on, Col. Simcoe had been detached to Westham, six 
miles up the river, where he destroyed a cannon foundry and 
sacked a public magazine; broke off the trunnions of the can- 
non, and threw into the river the powder which he could not 
carry away, and, after effecting a complete devastation, rejoined 
Arnold at Richmond, which during the ensuing night resounded 
with the drunken orgies of the soldiery. Arnold reembarked at 
Westover and fell slowly down the river, landing occasionally to 
burn, plunder, and destroy; pursued by Steuben with a few Con- 
tinental troops and all the militia that he could muster. Gen. Nel- 
son, also, with similar levies opposed him. Lower down the river 
some skirmishing took place, a few of Arnold's troops were killed 
and a number wounded, but he made his way to Portsmouth, 
opposite Norfolk, where he took post on the 20th of January, and 
proceeded to fortify. Steuben collected from various parts of the 
country all the force that could be mustered; he so disposed it at 
different points as to hem the traitor in, and prevent his making 
further incursions. 

Washington had repeatedly, in his communications to Congress, 
attributed much of the distresses and disasters of the war to the 
congressional mode of conducting business through committees 
and •' boards," thus causing irregularity and delay, preventing 



48o LIFE OF \\ 'ASHL\G TOX. 

secrecy and augmenting expense. He was greatly rejoiced, there- 
fore, when Congress decided to appoint heads of departments; 
secretaries of foreign affairs, of war and of marine, and a super- 
intendent of finance. 

The stress of war was at present shifted to the South. General 
Greene, in the latter part of December, was posted with one divi- 
sion of his army on the east side of the Pedee River in North Car- 
ohna, having detached Gen. Morgan with the other division, one 
thousand strong, to take post near the confluence of the Pacolet 
and Broad Rivers in South Carohna. Comwallis lay encamped 
about seventy miles to the southwest of Greene, at Winnsborough 
in Fairfield district. Gen. Leshe had recently arrived at Charles- 
ton from Virginia, and was advancing to reinforce him with fifteen 
hundred men. His plan was to leave Lord Rawdon at the central 
post of Camden with a considerable body of troops to keep all 
quiet, while his lordship by rapid marches would throw himself 
"between Greene and Virginia, cut him off from all reinforcements 
in that quarter, and oblige him either to make battle with his pres- 
ent force, or retreat precipitately from North Carolina. Morgan 
"had passed both the Catawba and Broad Rivers, and was about 
seventy miles miles to the northwest of Cornwallis on his way to 
the district of Ninety-Six. Tarleton was sent in quest of him, with 
about eleven hundred choice troops. His instructions were to pass 
Broad River for the protection of Ninety-Six, and either to strike 
at Morgan and push him to the utmost ; or to drive him out of the 
countr)'. Comwallis moved with his main force on the 12th of 
December, in a northwest direction between the Broad River and 
the Catawba, leading: toward the back countr\'. This was for the 
purpose of crossing the great rivers at their fords near their 
sources; for they are fed by innumerable petty streams which drain 
the mountains, and are apt in the winter time, when storms of rain 
prevail, to swell and become impassable below their forks, Tarle- 
ton, after several days' hard marching, came upon the traces of 
Morgan, who was posted on the north bank of the Pacolet, to 
guard the passes of that river. His force was nearly equal in 
number to that of Tarleton, but, in point of cavalr)' and discipline, 
vastly inferior. ComwalHs, too, was on his left, and might get in 
his rear; checking his impulse, therefore, to dispute the passage of 
the Pacolet, he crossed that stream and retreated toward the upper 
fords of Broad River. Tarleton reached the Pacolet on the evem 
ing of the 15th. After some manoeuvring to deceive his adversary, 
he crossed the river before daylight at Eastenvood shoals. There 
was no opposition. Morgan was in full march towards Broad 
River. Tarleton now pressed on in pursuit. Morgan had been 
urged by his officers to retreat across Broad River, which was near 
by, and make for the mountainous countr\", but, closely pressed as 
he was, he feared to be overtaken while fording the river, and 
while his troops v.-ere fatigued, and in confusion. The place where 
"he came to halt, was known in the early grants by the name of 
Hannah's Cowpens, being part of a grazing establishment of a 
man named Hannah. It was in an open wood, favorable to the 



1/81.] BATTLE OF THE COWPENS. 481 

action of cavalry. There were two eminences of unequal height, 
and separated from each other by an interval about eighty yards 
wide. To the first eminence, which was the highest, there was an 
easy ascent of about three hundred yards. On these heights Mor- 
gan had posted himself. His flanks were unprotected, and the 
Broad River, running parallel on his rear, about six miles distant, 
and winding round on the left, would cut off retreat, should the day 
prove unfortunate. The ground, in the opinion of tacticians, was 
not well chosen; Morgan, a veteran bush-fighter, vindicated it 
in after times in his own characteristic way. " Had I crossed the 
river, one-half of the militia would have abandoned me. Had a 
swamp been in view, they would have made for it. As to cover- 
ing my wings, I knew the foe I had to deal with, and that there 
would be nothing but downright fighting. As to a retreat, I wished 
to cut off all hope of one. Should Tarleton surround me with his 
cavalry, it would keep my troops from breaking away, and make 
them depend upon their bayonets. When men are forced to 
fight, they will sell their lives dearly." In arranging his troops 
for action, he drew out his infantry in two lines. The first was 
composed of the North and South Carolina militia, under Col. 
Pickens, having an advanced corps of North Carolina and Geor- 
gia volunteer riflemen. This line was charged to wait until the 
enemy were within dead shot; then to take good aim, fire two 
volleys and fall back. The second line, drawn up a moderate 
distance in the rear of the first, and near the brow of the main 
eminence, was composed of Col. Howard's light-infantry and the 
Virginia riflemen; all Continental troops. About a hundred and 
fifty yards in the rear of the second line, and on the slope of the 
lesser eminence, was Col. Washington's troop of cavalry, about 
eighty strong; with about fifty mounted Carolinian volunteers, 
under Major McCall, armed with sabres and pistols. It was 
about eight o'clock in the morning (Jan. 17th), when Tarleton 
came up. He led on his first line, which rushed shouting to the 
attack. The North Carolina and Georgia riflemen in the advance, 
delivered their fire with effect, and fell back to the flanks of Pick- 
ens' militia. These waited until the enemy were within fifty yards, 
and then made a destructive volley, but soon gave way before the 
push of the bayonet. The British infantry pressed up to the sec- 
ond line, while forty of their cavalry attacked it on the right, seek- 
ing to turn its flank. Col. Howard made a brave stand, and for 
some time there was a bloody conflict; his troops were falling into 
confusion, when Morgan rode up and ordered them to retreat over 
the hill, where Col. Washington's cavalry were hurried forward for 
their protection. The British rushed forward irregularly in pursuit 
of what they deemed a routed foe. To their astonishment, they 
were met by Col. Washington's dragoons, who spurred on them 
impetuously, while Howard's infantry facing about, gave them an 
effective volley of musketry, and then charged with the bayonet. 
The enemy now fell into complete confusion. Some few artillery- 
men attempted to defend their guns, but were cut down or taken 
prisoners, and the cannon and colors captured. A general flight 
16 



482 . LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

took place. Tarleton endeavored to bring his legion cavalry into 
action to retrieve the day. They had stood aloof as a reserve, 
and now, infected by the panic, turned their backs upon their com' 
mander, and galloped off through the woods, riding over the flying 
infantry. Fourteen of his officers, however, and forty of his dra- 
goons, remained true to him; with these he attempted to withstand 
the attack of Washington's cavalry, and a fierce mek'e took place; 
but on the approach of Howard's infantry Tarleton gave up all for 
lost, and spurred off with his few but faithful adherents, trusting to 
the speed of their horses for safety. They made for Hamilton's 
ford on Broad River, thence to seek the main army under Corn- 
■wallis. The loss of the British in this action was ten officers and 
above one hundred men killed, two hundred wounded, and 
between five and six hundred rank and file made prisoners; while 
the Americans had but twelve men killed and sixty wounded. 
The disparity of loss shows how complete had been the confusion 
and defeat of the enemy. The spoils taken by Morgan were two 
field-pieces, two standards, eight hundred muskets, one travelling 
forge, thirty-five Avagons, seventy negroes, upwards of one hun- 
dred dragoon-horses, and all the music. Leaving Col. Pickens 
■with a body of militia under the protection of a flag, to bury the 
dead and provide for the m oundcd of both armies, he set out the 
same day about noon, Avitli his prisoners and spoils. His object 
was to get to the Catawba before he could be intercepted by Corn- 
wallis, who lay nearer than he did to the fords of that river. Before 
nightfall he crossed Broad River at the Cherokee ford, and halted 
for a few hours on its northern bank. Before dayhght of the i8th 
he was again on the march. Col. Washington, who had been in 
pursuit of the enemy, rejoined him in the course of the day. He 
put his prisoners in charge of the cavalry, with orders to move 
higher up into the country and cross the main Catawba at the 
Island ford; while he himself pushed forward for that river by the 
direct route. Cornwallis, Jan. 17th, was at his camp on Turkey 
Creek, confidently waiting for tidings from Tarleton of a new tri- 
umph, when, towards evening, some of his routed dragoons came 
straggling into camp, haggard and forlorn, to tell the tale of his 
defeat. It was a thunder-stroke. Tarleton defeated ! and by the 
rude soldier he had been so sure of entrapping ! On the 19th, 
having been reinforced by Leslie, Cornwallis moved towards 
King's Creek, and tnence in the direction ot King's Mountain, 
imtil informed of Morgan's retreat toward the Catawba. He now 
altered his course in that direction, and, trusting that Morgan, 
encumbered, as he supposed him to be, oy prisoners and spoils, 
might be overtaken before he could cross that river, detached apart 
of his force, without baggage, in pursuit of him, while he followed 
on Avith the remainder. Morgan succeeded in reaching the 
Catawba and crossing it in the evening, just two hours before those 
in pursuit of him arrived on its banks. A heavy rain came on and 
fell all night, and by daybreak the river was so swollen as to 
be impassable. Cornwallis was encumbered by an immense 
train of baggage; the roads were through deep led clay, and the 



I78i.] GEN. GREENE'S FABIAN TACTICS. 483 

country was cut up by streams and morasses. It was not until the 
25th, that he assembled his whole force at Ramsour's Mills, on the 
Little Catawba, as the south fork of that river is called, and learnt 
that Morgan had crossed the main stream. Two days were spent 
by him at Ramsour's Mills, in destroying all such baggage and 
stores as could possibly be spared. He was preparing for a trial 
of speed, where it was important to carry as light weight as pos- 
sible. 

Gen. Greene was gladdened by a letter from Morgan, written 
shortly after his defeat of Tarleton, and transmitted the news to 
Washington with his own generous comments. " The victory was 
complete," writes he, " and the action glorious. The brilliancy 
and success with which it was fought, does the highest honor to 
the American arms, and adds splendor to the character of the gen- 
eral and his officers." Greene left General Huger in command of 
the division on the Pedee, with orders -to hasten on by forced 
marches to Salisbury, to join the other division ; in the mean- 
time he set off on horseback for Morgan's camp, attended merely 
by a guide, an aide-de-camp, and a sergeant's guard of dragoons. 
It was a hard ride of upwards of a hundred miles through a rough 
country. On the last day of January he reached Morgan's camp 
at Sherrard's ford on the east side of the Catawba. The British 
army lay on the opposite side of the river. He was aware of their 
ill-provided state, from the voluntary destruction of their wagons, 
tents and baggage. Indeed, when he first heard of this measure, on 
his arriving at Sherrard's ford, he had exclaimed: " Then Corn- 
wallis is ours." His plan was to tempt the enemy with the pros- 
pect of a battle, but continually to elude one ; to harass them by a 
long pursuit, draw them higher into the country, and gain time for 
the division advancing under Huger to join him. It was the 
Fabian policy that he had learnt under Washington, of whom he 
prided himself on being a disciple. He ordered Morgan to move 
off silently with his division, on the evening of the 31st, and to 
press his march all night. 

Cornwallis set out for McGowan's, a private and unfrequented 
ford, with the main body of his army, at one o'clock in the morn- 
ing, Jan. 31st. The night was dark and rainy. He had to make 
his way through a wood and swamp where there was no road. 
His artillery stuck fast. The line passed on without them. It was 
near daybreak by the time the head of the column reached the 
ford. To their surprise, they beheld numerous camp fires on the 
opposite bank. The ford was guarded. Davidson was there with 
three hundred mounted riflemen. Cornwallis would have waited 
for his artillery, but the rain was still falling, and might render the 
river unfordable. At that place the Catawba was nearly five hun- 
dred yards wide, about three feet deep, very rapid, and full of 
large stones. The troops entered the river in platoons, to support 
each other against the current, and were ordered not to fire until 
they should gain the opposite bank. The noise of the water and 
the darkness covered their movements until they were nearly half- 
way across, when they were descried by an American sentinel. 



484 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

Col. Hall, of the the light-infantry of the guards led the way 
directly across the river ; whereas the true ford inclined diago- 
nally further down. Hall had to pass through deeper water, 
but he reached a part of the bank where it was unguarded. 
The American pickets had to deliver a distant and slanting 
fire. Three of the British were killed, and thirty-six wounded. 
Col. Hall was shot down as he ascended the bank. The 
horse on which Cornwallis rode was wounded, but the brave 
animal carried his lordship to the shore, where he sank under him. 
The steed of Brig. -Gen. O'Hara rolled over with him into the 
water, and Gen. Leslie's horse was borne away by the tumultuous 
current and with difficulty recovered. Gen. Davidson hastened 
with his men towards the place where the British were landing. 
The latter formed as soon as they found themselves on firm ground, 
charged Davidson's men before he had time to get them in order, 
killed and wounded about forty, and put the rest to flight. Gen. 
Davidson was killed just as he was mounting his horse. It was 
not until after midnight that Greene heard of the dispersion 
of the militia, and of the death of Davidson. He hastened to 
rejoin Morgan, who with his division was pushing forward for the 
Yadkin, first sending orders to Gen. Huger to conduct the other 
division by the most direct route to Guilford Court-house, where 
the forces were to be united. It was a dreary ride. At 
mid-day he alighted, weary and travel-stained, at the inn at 
Salisbury, where the army physician who had charge of the 
sick and wounded prisoners received him at the door, and in- 
quired after his well-being. *' Fatigued, hungry, alone, and 
penniless," was Greene's heavy-hearted reply. The landlady, 
Mrs. Elizabeth Steele, overheard his desponding words. While 
he was seated at table, she entered the room, closed the 
door, and drawing from under her apron two bags of money, 
which she had carefully hoarded in those precarious times, "Take 
these,'* said the noble-hearted woman ; "you will want them, and 
I can do without them." This is one of the numberless instances 
of the devoted patriotism of our women during the Revolution. 
Their patriotism was apt to be purer and more disinterested than 
that of the men. Cornwallis, after crossing the Catawba, waited 
for his wagons and artillery, which had remained on the otlier side 
in the woods; so that by nightfall of the ist of Febiiiary he was 
not more than five miles on the road to Salisbury. Eager to come; 
up with the Americans, he mounted some of the infantry upon the 
baggage horses, joined them to the cavalry, and sent the whole 
forward under Gen. O'Hara. They arrived on the banks of the 
Yadkin at night, between the 2d and 3d of February, just in time 
to capture a few wagons lingering in the rear of the American army. 
The rain had overflooded the ford by which che American cavalry 
had passed. Cornwallis took his course up the south side of the Yad- 
kin, and crossed by what is still called the Shallow i"ord. Greene 
continued on unmolested to Guilford Court-house, where he Avas 
joined by Gen. Huger and his division on the 9th. His army num- 
bered but two thousand and thirty-six, rank and file, fit for duty. 



I78i.] A RACE OF TWO HUNDRED MILES. 485 

Of these upwards of six hundred were mihtia. Cornwalhs had from 
twenty-five hundred to three thousand men, inchiding three hun- 
dred cavahy, all thoroughly disciphned and well equipped. The 
great object of Greene now was to get across the river Dan, and 
throw himself into Virginia. With the reinforcements and assist- 
ance he might there expect to find, he hoped to effect the salvation 
of the South, and prevent the dismemberment of the Union. The 
object of Cornwalhs was to get between him and Virginia, force him 
to a combat before he could receive those reinforcements, or enclose 
him in between the great rivers on the west, the sea on the east, and 
the two divisions of the British army under himself and Lord Raw- 
don on the north and south. Great abilities were shown by the 
commanders on either side at this momentous trial of activity and 
skill. It was a long and severe march for both armies, through a 
wild and rough country, thinly peopled, cut up by streams, partly 
covered by forests, along deep and frozen roads, under drenching 
rains, without tents at night, and with scanty supplies of provisions. 
The British suffered the least, for they were well equipped and com- 
fortably clad ; whereas the poor Americans were badly off for 
clothing, and many of them without shoes. The patriot armies of 
the Revolution, however, were accustomed in their winter marches 
to leave evidences of their hardships in bloody foot-prints. Greene, 
with the main body, reached the banks of the river Dan, and suc- 
ceeded in crossing over with ease in the course of a single day at 
Boyd's and Irwin's ferries. Col. Williams, with the residue of the 
army, encamped as usual, in the evening, at a wary distance in 
front of the enemy, but stole a march upon them after dark, leaving 
his camp fires burning. He pushed on all night, arrived at the 
ferry in the morning of the 15th, having marched forty miles with- 
in the last four and twenty hours ; and made such despatch in cross- 
ing, that his last troops had landed on the Virginia shore by the 
time the astonished enemy arrived on the opposite bank. Nothing, 
according to their own avowal, could surpass the grief and vexation 
of the British at discovering, on their arrival at Boyd's ferry, " that 
all their toils and exertions had been vain, and that all their 
hopes were frustrated." 

For a day the two armies lay panting within sight of each other 
on the opposite banks of the river, which had put an end to the 
race. In a letter to Thomas Jefferson, (Feb. 14th) Greene writes: 
"On the Dan River, almost fatigued to death, having had aretreat 
to conduct of upwards of two hundred miles, manoeuvring con- 
stantly in the face of the enemy to give time for the militia to turn 
out and get off our stores." And to Washington he writes (Feb. 15), 
" Lord Cornwalhs has been at our heels from day to day ever since 
we left Guiford, and our movements from thence to this place have 
been of the most critical kind, having a river in our front and the 
enemy in our rear." North Carolina was in a state of the utmost 
disorder and confusion ; Cornwalhs thought it better to remain in 
it for a time, and profit by having compelled Greene to abandon it. 
He put his troops once more in motion on the 18th, along the road 
by which he had pursued Greene. This changed the game. Lee, 



486 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

with his legion, strengthened by two veteran Maryland companies, 
and Pickens, with a corps of South Carolina militia, all light troops, 
were transported across the Dan in the boats, with orders to gain 
the front of Cornwallis, hover as near as safety would permit, cut 
off his intercourse with the disaffected parts of che country, and 
check the rising of the royalists. " If we can but delay him a day 
or two," said Greene, "he must be ruined." Meanwhile, he re- 
mained with his main force on the northern bank of the Dan, 
ready to cross at a moment's warning. On the 20th, Cornwallis 
took post at Hillsborough. Here he issued a proclamation, invit- 
ing all his majesty's loyal subjects to hasten to his standard with 
their arms and ten days' provisions, to assist in suppressing the 
remains of the rebellion, and reestablishing good order and con- 
stitutional government. These appeals produced but little effect on 
the people of the surrounding districts. Many hundreds rode into 
camp to talk over the proclamation, inquire the news of the day, 
and take a view of the king's troops. The generality seemed 
desirous of peace, but averse from any exertion to procure it. 
They acknowledged that the Continentals had been chased out of 
the province, but apprehended they would soon return. Greene 
saw that if Cornwallis were allowed to remain undisturbed, he 
would soon have complete command of North Carolina ; he boldly 
deteiTnined, therefore, to recross the Dan at all hazards with the 
scanty force at his command, and give his lordship check. In this 
spirit he broke up his camp and crossed the river on the 23d. His 
reappearance disconcerted the schemes of Lord Cornwallis. On 
the 26th he abandoned Hillsborough, threw himself across the 
Haw, and encamped near Alamance Creek, one of its principal 
tributaries, in a country favorable to supplies and with atory popu- 
lation. His position was commanding, at the point of concurrence 
of roads from Salisbury, Guilford, High Rockford, Cross Creek, 
and Hillsborough. It covered also the communication with 
Wilmington, where a depot of military stores, so important to his 
half-destitute army, had recently been established. Greene, with 
his main army, took post about fifteen miles above him, on the 
heights between Troublesome Creek and Reedy Fork, one of the 
tributaries of the Haw. He rarely lay more than two days in a 
place, and kept his light troops under Pickens and Wilhams be- 
tween him and the enemy ; hovering about the latter ; intercepting 
his intelligence; attacking his foraging parties, and striking at his 
flanks whenever exposed. The country being much of a wilderness, 
obliged both parties to be on the alert ; but the Americans, accus- 
tomed to bush-fighting, were not easily surprised. Greene's long- 
expected reinforcements arrived on the loth, having been hurried 
on by forced marches. They consisted of a brigade of Virginia 
militia, under Gen. Lawson, two brigades of North Carolina militia, 
under Gens. Butler and Eaton, and four hundred regulars, enlisted 
for eighteen months. His whole effective force amounted to four 
thousand two hundred and forty-three foot, and one hundred and 
sixty-one cavalry. Of his infantry, not quite two thousand were 
regulars, and of these, three-fourths were new levies. His force 



J78i.] BATTLE OF GUILFORD COURT-HOUSE. 487 

nearly doubled in number that of Cornwallis, which did not exceed 
two thousand four hundred men ; but many of Greene's troops were 
raw and inexperienced, and had never been in battle; those of the 
enemy were veterans, schooled in warfare, and, as it were, welded 
together by campaigning in a foreign land, where their main safety 
consisted in standing by each other. Greene determined to accept 
the battle which had so long been offered. The corps of light 
troops, under Williams, which had rendered such efficient service, 
was now incorporated with the main body, and all detachments 
were ordered to assemble at Guilford, within eight miles of the 
enemy, where he encamped on the 14th. Cornwallis trusted in his 
well-seasoned veterans, and detennined to attack Greene in his en- 
campment, now that he seemed disposed for a general action. To 
provide against the possibility of a retreat, he sent his carriages and 
baggage to Bell's Mills, on Deep River, and set out at daybreak 
on the 15th for Guilford. Within four miles of that place, near the 
New Garden Meeting-house, Tarleton with the advanced guard of 
cavalry, infantry, and yagers, came upon the American advance- 
guard, composed of Lee's partisan legion, and some mountaineers 
and Virginia militia. Tarleton and Lee were well matched in 
military prowess, and the skirmish between them was severe. Lee's 
horses, being from Virginia and Pennsylvaina, were superior in 
weight and strength to those of his opponent, which had been 
chiefly taken from plantations in South Carolina. The latter were 
borne down by a charge in close column; several of their riders 
were dismounted, and killed or taken prisoners. Tarleton, seeing 
that his weakly mounted men fought to a disadvantage, sounded a 
retreat ; Lee endeavored to cut him off: a general conflict of the 
vanguards, horse and foot, ensued, when the appearance of the 
main body of the enemy obliged Lee, in his turn, to retire with 
precipitation. During this time, Greene was preparing for action 
on a woody eminence, a little more than a mile south of Guilford 
Court-house. He had drawn out his troops in three lines. The 
first, composed of North Carohna miUtia, volunteers and riflemen, 
under Generals Butler and Eaton, was posted behind a fence, with 
an open field in front, and woods on the flanks and in the rear. 
About three hundred yards behind this, was the second line, com- 
posed of Virginia militia, under Generals Stevens and Lawson, 
drawn up across the road, and covered by a wood. The third line, 
about four hundred yards in the rear of the second, was composed 
of Continental troops or regulars; those of Virginia under Gen. Huger 
on the right, those of Maryland under Col. Williams on the left. 
Col, Washington with a body of dragoons, Kirkwood's Delaware 
infantry, and a battalion of Virginia militia covered the right flank ; 
Lee's legion, with the Virginia riflemen under Col. Campbell, cov- 
ered the left. Two six-pounders were in the road, in advance of the 
first line ; two field-pieces with the rear-line near the court-house, 
where Gen. Greene took his station. About noon the head of the 
British army was descried advancing spiritedly from the south along 
the Salisbury road, (which passed though the centre of the place,) 
and defiling into the fields. A cannonade was opened from the two 



488 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

six-pounders, in front of the first American line. It was answered 
by the British artillery. Neither produced much effect. The 
enemy now advanced coolly and steadily in three columns; the 
Hessians and Highlanders under Gen. Leslie, on the right, the 
Royal artillery and guards in the center, and Webster's brigade on 
the left. The North Carolinians, who formed the first line, waited 
until the enemy were within one hundred and fifty yards, when, 
agitated by their martial array and undaunted movement, they be- 
gan to fall into confusion ; some fired off their pieces without taking 
aim ; others threw them down, and took to flight. A volley from 
the foe, a shout, and a charge of the bayonet, completed their dis- 
comfiture. Some fled to the woods, others fell back upon the 
Virginians, who formed the second line. Gen, Stevens, who com- 
manded the latter, ordered his men to open and let the fugidves 
pass, pretending that they had orders to retire. He had taken care, 
however, to post forty riflemen in the rear of his own line with 
orders to fire upon any one who should leave his post. Under his 
spirited command and example, the Virginians kept their ground 
and fought bravely. The action became much broken up and 
diversified by the extent of the ground. The thickness of the 
woods impeded the movements of the cavalry. The reserves on 
both sides were called up. The British bayonet again succeeded; 
the second line gave way, and Gen. Stevens, who had kept the 
field for some time, after being wounded in the thigh by a musket- 
ball, ordered a retreat. The enemy pressed with increasing ardor 
against the third line, composed of Continental troops, and sup- 
ported by Col. Washington's dragoons and Kirkwood's Delawares. 
Greene counted on these to retrieve the day. They were regulars; 
they were fresh, and in perfect order. He rode along the line, 
calling to them to stand firm, and give the enemy a warm recep- 
tion. The first Maryland regiment which was on the right wing, 
was attacked by Col. Webster, with the British left. It stood the 
shock bravely, and being seconded by some Virginia troops, and 
Kirkwood's Delawares, drove Webster across a ravine. The sec- 
ond Maryland regiment was not so successful. Impetuously at- 
tacked by Col. Stewart, with a battaHon of the guards, and a 
company of grenadiers, it faltered, gave way, and fled abandoning 
two field-pieces, which were seized by the enemy. Stewart was 
pursuing, when the first regiment, which had driven Webster 
across the ravine, came to the rescue with fixed bayonets, while 
Col. Washington spurred up with his cavalry. The fight now was 
fierce and bloody. Stewart was slain ; the two field-pieces were 
retaken, and the enemy in their turn gave way and were pursued 
with slaughter; a destructive fire of grape-shot from the enemy's 
artillery checked the pursuit. Two regiments approached on the 
right and left ; Webster recrossed the ravine and fell upon Kirk- 
wood's Delawares. There was intrepid fighting in different parts 
of the field ; but Greene saw that the day was lost ; there was no 
retrieving the effect produced by the first flight of the North Caro- 
linans. Unwilling to risk the utter destruction of his army, he 
directed a retreat, which was made in good order, but they had to 



I78i.] GREENE PURSUES THE BRITISH, 489 

leave their artillery on the field, most of the horses having been 
killed. The British were too much cut up and fatigued to follow 
up their victory. Two regiments with Tarleton's cavalry attempted 
a pursuit, but were called back. Efforts were made to collect the 
wounded of both armies, but they were dispersed over so wide a 
space, among woods and thickets, that night closed before the task 
was accomphshed. It was a night of unusual darkness, with tor- 
rents of rain. The army was destitute of tents ; there were not 
sufficient houses in the vicinity to receive the wounded : pro- 
visions were scanty ; many had tasted very little food for the last 
two days ; comforts were out of the question. Nearly fifty of the 
wounded sank under their aggravated miseries, and expired before 
morning. The cries of the disabled and dying, who ramnained on 
the field of battle, during the night, exceeded all description. The 
loss of the Americans in this hard-fought affair, by their official 
returns, made immediately after the action, give little more than 
four hundred killed and wounded, and between eight and nine 
hundred missing ; the loss of the enemy, even if numerically less, 
was far more fatal, and it completely maimed him ; ninety-three 
had fallen, four hundred and thirteen were wounded, and twenty- 
six missing. Among the killed and wounded were several officers 
of note. Thus, one-fourth of CornwalUs' army was either killed 
or disabled ; his troops were exhausted by fatigue and hunger ; his 
camp was encumbered by the wounded. His victory, in fact, was 
almost as ruinous as a defeat. Greene lay for two days within ten 
miles of him, gathering up his scattered troops. He had imbibed 
the spirit of Washington, and remained undismayed by hardships 
or reverses. Writing to the latter, he says; "Lord Cornwallis 
will not give up this country without being soundly beaten. I am 
in hopes, by little and little, to reduce him in time. Virginia has 
given me every support I could wish or expect, and nothing has 
contributed more to this, than the prejudice of the people in favor 
of your Excellency." Cornwallis set out, on the third day after 
the action, by easy marches, for Cross Creek, otherwise called the 
Haw, an eastern branch of Cape Fear River, where was a settle- 
ment of Scottish Highlanders. Here he expected to be plentifully 
supplied with provisions, and to have his sick and wounded well 
taken care of. Hence, too, he could open a communication by 
Cape Fear River, with Wilmington, and obtain from the depot 
recently established there, such supplies as the country about Cross 
Creek did not afford. Greene followed him, determined to bring 
him again to action ; and presenting the singular spectacle of the 
vanquished pursuing the victor. His troops, however, suffered 
greatly in this pursuit from wintry weather, deep, wet, clayey roads, 
and scarcity of provisions, the country through which they 
marched being completely exhausted ; but they harassed the ene- 
my's rear-guard with frequent skirmishes. On the 28th, he arrived 
at Ramsey's Mills, on Deep River, hard on the traces of Cornwal- 
lis, who had left the place a few hours previously with such pre- 
cipitation, that several of his wounded, who had died while on the 
march, were left behind unburied. Several fresh quarters of beef 



490 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

had likewise been forgotten, and were seized upon with eagerness 
by the hungry soldiery. Such had been the urgency of the pur- 
suit this day, that many of the American troops sank upon the 
road exhausted with fatigue. At Deep River, he was brought to a 
stand. CornwalHs had broken down the bridge by which he had 
crossed ; and further pursuit for the present was impossible. Tha 
constancy of the militia now gave way. They were in want of 
everything, for the retreating enemy left a famished country behind 
him. The term for which most of them had enlisted was expired, 
and they now demanded their discharge. The demand was just 
and reasonable, and, after striving in vain to shake their determi- 
nation, Greene felt compelled to comply with it. His force thus 
reduced, iOwould be impossible to pursue the enemy further. The 
halt he was obliged to make to collect provisions and rebuild the 
bridge, would give them such a start as to leave no hope of over- 
taking them should they continue their retreat ; nor could he fight 
them upon equal terms should they make a stand. Suddenly he 
determined to change his course, and carry the war into South 
Carolina. This would obhge the enemy either to follow him, and 
thus abandon North Carolina ; or to sacrifice all his posts in the 
upper part of North Carohna and Georgia. He apprised Sumter, 
Pickens, and Marion, by letter, of his intentions, and called upon 
them to be ready to cooperate with all the mihtia they could col- 
lect ; promising to send forward cavalry and small detachments of 
light infantry, to aid them in capturing outposts before the army 
should arrive. He set forward on the 5th of April towards Cam- 
den, where Lord Rawdon had his headquarters. Cornwallis* 
plans were all disconcerted. Never, we are told, was his lordship 
more affected than by this news. " My situation here is very dis- 
tressing," writes he. "Greene took advantage of my being 
obliged to come to this place, and has marched to South Caro- 
lina. The mountaineers and militia have poured into the back 
part of that province, and I much fear that Lord Rawdon' s posts 
will be so distant from each other, and his troops so scattered, as 
to put him into the greatest danger of being beaten in detail, and 
that the worst of consequences may happen to most of the troops 
out of Charleston." All thoughts of offensive operations against 
North Carolina were at an end. Sickness, desertion, and the loss 
sustained at Guilford Court-house, had reduced his little army to 
fourteen hundred and thirty-five men. In this predicament, he 
determined to take advantage of Greene's having left the back 
part of Virginia open, to march directly into that province, and 
attempt a junction with the force acting there under Gen. Phillips. 
The move, however, he felt to be perilous. His troops were worn 
down by upwards of eight hundred miles of marching and coun- 
ter-marching through an inhospitable and impracticable country; 
they had now three hundred more before them. There was no 
time for hesitation or delay ; and he set off on the 25th of April, 
on his fated march into Virginia. 

We left Benedict Arnold fortifying himself at Portsmouth, after 
his ravaging incursion. At the solicitatioji of Gov. Jefferson, 



1781.J FRENCH FLEET IN THE CHESAPEAKE, 491 

backed by Congress, the Chevalier de la Luzerne had requested 
the French commander at the eastward to send a ship of the hne 
and some frigates to Chesapeake Bay to oppose the traitor. For- 
tunately, at this juncture a severe snow-storm (Jan. 22d) scattered 
Arbuthnot's blockading squadron, wrecking one ship of the line 
and dismasting others, and enabled the French fleet at Newport to 
look abroad ; and Rochambeau wrote to Washington that the 
Chevalier Destouches, who commanded the fleet, proposed to send 
three or four ships to the Chesapeake. Washington feared the 
position of Arnold, and his well-known address, might enable him 
to withstand a mere attack by sea; anxious to ensure his capture, 
he advised that Destouches should send his whole fleet ; and that 
De Rochambeau should embark about a thousand men on board 
of it, with artillery and apparatus for a siege ; engaging, on his own 
part, to send on immediately a detachment of twelve hundred men 
to cooperate. He gave the command of this detachment to Lafay- 
ette, instructing him to act in conjunction with the mihtia and the 
ships sent by Destouches, against the enemy's corps actually in 
Virginia. He wrote at the same time to the Baron Steuben : " If 
the fleet should have arrived before this gets to hand, secrecy will 
be out of the question ; if not, you will conceal your expectations, 
and only seem to be preparing for defence. Ai'nold, on the 
appearance of the fleet, may endeavor to retreat through North 
Carolina. Should you be able to capture this detachment with its 
chief, it will be an event as pleasing as it will be useful." Lafay- 
ette set out on his march on the 22d of February. The French 
commanders determined to follow the plan suggested by Wash- 
ington, and operate in the Chesapeake with their whole fleet and a 
detanhment of land troops. Washington set out for Newport, ancT 
arrived there on the 6th of March. He found the French fleet 
ready for sea, the troops eleven hundred strong, commanded by 
General the Baron de Niomenil, being already embarked. He 
went immediately on board of the admiral's ship, where he had an 
interview with the Count de Rochambeau, and arranged the plan 
of the campaign. Returning on shore he was received by the in- 
habitants with enthusiastic demonstrations of affection ; and was 
gratified to perceive the harmony and good will between them and 
the French army and fleet. The British fleet made sail in pursuit, 
on the morning of the loth ; as the French had so much the start, 
it was hoped they would reach the Chesapeake Bay before them. 
In the meantime, Lafayette with his detachment was pressing for- 
ward by forced marches for Virginia. Arriving at the Head of 
Elk on the 3d of March, he halted until he should receive tidings 
respecting the French fleet. On the 7th he conducted his troops 
by water to Annapolis, and concluding, from the time the ships 
were to sail, and the winds which had since prevailed, the French 
fleet must be already in the Chesapeake, he crossed the bay in an 
open boat to Virginia, and pushed on to confer with the American 
and French commanders ; get a convoy for his troops, and concert 
matters for a vigorous cooperation. Arriving at York on the 14th, 



492 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

he found the Baron Steuben in the bustle of military preparations, 
and confident of having five thousand mihtia ready to cooperate. 

Admiral Arbuthnot had overtaken Destouches on the i6th of 
March, off the capes of Virginia. Their forces were nearly equal ; 
eight ships of the line, and four frigates on each side, the French 
having more men, the English more guns. An engagement took 
place which lasted about an hour. The British van at first took 
the brunt of the action, and was severely handled ; the center came 
up to its relief. The French line was broken and gave way, but 
ralHed, and formed again at some distance. The crippled state of 
some of his ships prevented the British admiral from bringing on a 
second encounter ; nor did the French seek one, but shaped their 
course the next day back to Newport. The British effected the 
main objects they had in view ; the French were cut off from the 
Chesapeake ; the combined enterprise against Portsmouth was dis- 
concerted, and Arnold was saved. Great must have been the appre- 
hensions of the traitor, while thart enterprise threatened to entrap 
him. He knew the peculiar peril impending over him ; it had been 
announced in the sturdy reply of an American prisoner to his 
inquiry what his countrymen would do to him if he were captured. 
— "They would cut off the leg wounded in the service of your 
country and bury it with the honors of war ; the rest of you they 
would hang ! ' ' 

Washington's anxiety was now awakened for the safety of Gen. 
Greerie. Two thousand troops had sailed from New York under 
Gen. Phillips, probably to join with the %rce under Arnold, and 
proceed to reinforce Cornwallis. Should they form a junction, 
Greene would be unable to withstand them. With these consider- 
ations Washington wrote to Lafayette to push on with all possi- 
ble speed to join the southern army. The letter found Lafayette 
on the 8th of April, at the Head of Elk. On his return through 
Virginia, he had gone out of his way, and travelled all night for 
the purpose of seeing Washington's mother at Fredericksburg, and 
paying a visit to Mount Vernon. His troops, who were chiefly 
from the Eastern States, murmured at the prospect of a campaign 
in a southern climate, and desertions began to occur. Upon this 
he announced in general orders, that he was about to enter on an 
enterprise of great difficulty and danger, in which he trusted his 
soldiers would not abandon him. Their pride was roused by this 
appeal. All engaged to continue forward. So great was the fear 
of appearing a laggard, or a craven, that a sergeant, too lame to 
march, hired a place in a cart to keep up with the army. In the 
zeal of the moment, Lafayette borrowed money on his own credit 
from the Baltimore merchants, to purchase summer clothing for 
his troops, in which he was aided, too, by the ladies of the city, 
with whom he was deservedly popular. 

The detachment from New York, under Gen. Phillips, arrived at 
Portsmouth on the 26th of March. That officer immediately took 
command, greatly to the satisfaction of the British officers, who 
had been acting under Arnold. The force now collected there 
amounted to three thousand five hundred men. The disparity in 



1 78 1 . ] MAJ^A UDS IN VI R GINIA. 493 

force was so great, that the Baron Steuben had to withdraw his 
troops, and remove the military stores into the interior. 

Gen. Phillips on the i6th of April, left one thousand men in gar- 
rison, and embarking the rest in small vessels of light draught, 
proceeded up James River, destroying armed vessels, public mag 
azines, and a ship-yard belonging to the State. Landing at City 
Point, he advanced aga.inst Petersburg, a place of deposit of mili- 
tary stores and tobacco. He was met about a mile below the 
town by about one thousand militia, under Gen. Muhlenburg, 
who, after disputing the ground inch by inch for nearly two hours, 
with considerable loss on both sides, retreated across the Appo- 
mattox, breaking down the bridge behind them. PhiUips entered 
the town, set fire to the tobacco warehouses, and destroyed all the 
vessels lying in the river. Repairing and crossing the bridge over 
the Appomattox, he proceeded to Chesterfield Court-house, where he 
destroyed barracks and public stores ; while Arnold, with a detach- 
ment laid waste the magazines of tobacco in the direction of War- 
wick. Richmond was a leading object of this desolating enter- 
prise, for there a great part of the military stores of the State had 
been collected. Fortunately, Lafayette, with his detachment of 
two thousand men, had arrived there, by forced marches, the 
evening before, and being joined by about two thousand militia 
and sixty dragoons (the latter, principally young Virginians of 
family), had posted himself strongly on the high banks on the 
north side of the river. There being no bridge across the river at 
that time, Gen. Phillips did not think it prudent to attempt a passage 
in face of such a force so posted ; but was extremely irritated at 
being thus foiled by the celerity of his youthful opponent, who now 
assumed the chief command of the American forces in Virginia. 
Returning down the south bank of the river, to the place 
where his vessels awaited him, he reembarked on the 2d of May, 
and dropped slowly down the river below the confluence of the 
Chickahominy. He was followed cautiously, and his move- 
ments watched by Lafayette, who posted himself behind the last- 
named river. Cornwallis was advancing with all speed from the 
South to effect a junction with him, and he made a rapid move to 
regain possession of Petersburg, where the junction was to take 
place. Lafayette attempted by forced marches to get there before 
him, but was too late. Falling back, therefore, he recrossed 
James River and stationed himself some miles below Richmond. 
PhiUips' smaller vessels had carried on the plan of plunder and 
devastation in other of the rivers emptying into the Chesapeake 
Bay. One had ascended the Potomac and menaced Mount Ver- 
non. Lund Washington, who had charge of the estate, met the 
flag which the enemy sent on shore, and saved the property from 
ravage, by furnishing the vessel with provisions. Washington 
was stung to the quick by the idea that his agent should go on 
board of the enemy's vessels, carry them refreshments, and " com- 
mune with a parcel of plundering scoundrels," as he termed them. 
"It would have been a less painful circumstance to me to have 
heard," writes he, "that in consequence of your noncompliance 



494 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

with their request, they had burnt my house and laid my planta- 
tion in ruins." Such Avere the steadfast purposes of Washington's 
mind >vhen war was brought home to his door, and threatening his 
earthly paradise of Mount Vernon. 

Cornwallis arrived at Petersburg on the 2oth of May, after 
nearly a month's wear\' marching from Wilmington. His lord- 
ship, on taking command, found his force augmented by a consid- 
erable detachment of royal artillery, two battalions of light infan- 
try, the 76th and 8oth British regiments, a Hessian regiment, Lieut. - 
Col. Simcoes corps of Queen's rangers, cavalry and infantry, one 
hundred yagers, Arnold's legion of royahsts, and the garrison of 
Portsmouth. 

Washington's whole force on the Hudson in the month of May, 
1781, did not amount to seven thousand men, of whom little more 
than four thousand were effective. He still had his headquarters 
at New Windsor, just above the Highlands, and within a few miles 
of West Point. The enemy were in force on the opposite side of 
the Hudson, marauding the country on the north side of Croton 
River, and he ordered a hasty advance of Connecticut troops in 
that direction. The Croton River flows from east to west across 
Westchester County, and formed as it were the barrier of the 
American lines. The advanced posts of Washington's army 
guarded it, and by its aid, protected the upper counvr>' from the 
incursions of those foraging parties and marauders which had des- 
olated the neutral ground below it. Col. Delancey's loyalists, a 
horde of tories and refugees which had their stronghold in Morris- 
ania, were the terror of the neighboring country. There was a 
petty Avar continually going on between them and the American 
outposts, often of a ruthless WwA. Delancey's horse and rangers 
scoured the country , and swept off forage and cattle from its fertile val- 
leys for the Biitish army at New York. Hence they were sometimes 
stigmatized by the opprobrious appellation of Cow Boys. The 
object of their present incursion was to surprise an outpost of the 
American army stationed near a fordable part of the Croton River, 
not far from Pine's Bridge. The post Avas commanded by Col. 
Christopher Greene, of Rhode Island, the same Avho had success- 
fully defended Fort Mercer on the Delaware, Avhen assailed by 
Count Donop. Delancey Avas successor to the unfortunate Andre 
as Adjutant-general of the British army. He conducted this foray 
in the night, at the head of a hundred horse and two hundred foot. 
The Croton Avas forded at daybreak, just as the night-guard had 
been Avithdrawn, and the farm houses Avere surprised and assailed 
in Avhich the Americans Avere quartered. That occupied by Col. 
Greene and a brother officer, Major Flagg, Avas first surrounded. 
The major started from his bed, and discharged his pistols from a 
Avindow, but Avas shot through the head, and afterwards despatched 
by cuts and thrusts of the sabre. The door of Greene's room Avas 
burst open. He defended himself vigorously and effectively Avith 
his sword, for he had great strength, but he was overpowered by 
numbers, cut down, and barbarously mangled. A massacre was 
going on in ether quarters. Besides these tAvo officers, there Avcre 



1781.] ROBERT MORRIS PLEDGES HIS CREDIT. 495 

between thirt}^ and forty killed and wounded, and several made 
prisoners. Before the troops ordered out by Washington arrived 
at the post, the marauders had made a precipitate retreat. They 
had attempted to carry off Greene a prisoner, but he died within 
three quarters of a mile of the house. He was but forty-four 
years of age, and was a model of manly strength and comeliness. 
A true soldier of the Revolution, he had served at Lexington and 
Bunker's Hill; followed Arnold through the Kennebec wilderness 
to Quebec; fought under the walls of that city; distinguished 
himself by his defence of Fort Mercer on the Delaware, and by 
his kind treatment of his vanquished and wounded antagonist. 
Col. Donop, How different the treatment experienced by him at 
the hands of his tory countrymen! On the subsequent day, the 
corpse of Col. Greene was brought to headquarters, and his funeral 
solemnized with military honors and universal grief. — A frigate 
had arrived at Boston, bringing the Count de Barras, to take com- 
mand of the French naval force. He was a veteran about sixty 
yeai-s of age, and had commanded D'Estaing's vanguard, whenhe 
forced the entrance of Newport harbor. The count brought the 
cheering intelligence that an armament of twenty ships of the line, 
with land forces, had sailed from France under the Count de 
Grasse for the West Indies, and that twelve of these ships were to 
relieve the squadron at Newport, and might be expected on the 
coast of the United States in July or August. The Count de Roch- 
ambeau now requested an interview with Washington, and they 
met at Weathersfield, Connecticut, on the 22d of May. Both as 
yet were ignorant of the arrival of Cornwallis in Virginia. It was 
determined that the French troops should march from Newport as 
soon as possible, and form a junction with the American army on 
the Hudson, and that both should move down to the vicinity of 
New York to make a combined attack, in which the Count de 
Grasse should be invited to cooperate with his fleet and a body 
of land troops. Wlien, however, Washington mustered his forces 
at Peekskill, he was mortified to find not more than five thousand 
effective men. Notwithstanding all the resolutions passed in the 
legislatures of the various States for supplying the army, it would, 
at this critical rhoment, have been destitute of provisions, especi- 
ally bread, had it not been for the zeal, talents, and activity of 
Mr. Robert Morris, now a delegate to Congress from the State of 
Pennsylvania, and recently appointed superintendent of finance. 
This patriotic and energetic man, when public means failed, 
pledged his own credit in transporting military stores and feeding 
the army. Washington now prepared for spirited operations, 
quickened by the intelligence that a part of the garrison of New 
York had been detached to forage the Jerseys. Two objects were 
contemplated by him : one, the surprisal of the British works at 
the north end of New York Island ; the other the capture or 
destruction of Delancey's corps of refugees in Morrisania. The 
attack upon the posts was to be conducted by Gen. Lincoln, with 
a detachment from the main army, which he was to bring down 
by water — that on Delancey's corps by the Duke de Lauzun with 



496 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

his French legion, aided by Sheldon's dragoons, and a body of 
Connecticut troops. Both operations were to be carried into effect 
on the 3d of July. Lincoln left the camp near Peekskill on the 
1st, with eight hundred men, and artillery, and proceeded to Tel- 
ler's Point, were they were embarked in boats with muffled oars, 
and rowed silently at night down the Tappan Sea, that region of 
mystery and secret enterprise. At daylight they kept concealed 
under the land. The Duke de Lauzun was supposed, at the same 
time, to be on the way from Connecticut. Washington, at three 
o'clock on the morning of the 2d, left his tents standing at Peeks- 
kill, and commenced his march with his main force, without bag- 
gage ; making a brief halt at Croton Bridge, about nine miles from 
Peekskill ; another at the Sleepy Hollow Church, near Tarrytown, 
w here he halted until dusk, and completed the rest of his march 
in the night, to Valentine's Hill, four miles above King's Bridge. 
Before daylight of the 3d, Lincoln landed his troops above Spuy- 
ten Duy vil Creek, and took possession of the high ground on the 
north of Harlem River, where Fort Independence once stood. 
Here he was discovered by a foraging party of the enemy, fifteen 
hundred strong. An irregular skirmish ensued. The firing was 
heard by the Duke de Lauzun, who was just arrived with his 
troops at Eastchester, fatigued "by a long and forced march in 
sultry weather. Finding the country alarmed, and all hope of 
surprising Delancey's corps at an end, he hastened to the support 
of Lincoln. Washington also advanced with his troops from Val- 
entine's Hill. The British, perceiving their danger, retreated to 
their boats on the east side of Harlem River, and crossed over to 
New York Island. Washington spent a good part of the day 
reconnoitering the enemy's works. In the afternoon he retired to 
Valentine's Hill, and the next day marched to Dobbs Ferry, where 
he was joined by the Count de Rochambeau on the 6th of July. 
The two armies now encamped ; the American in two lines, rest- 
ing on the Hudson at Dobbs Ferry, where it was covered by bat- 
teries, and extending eastward towards the Neperan or Sawmill 
River ; the French in a single line on the hills further east, reach- 
ing to the Bronx River. The beautiful valley of the Neperan inter- 
vened between the encampments. It was a lovely country for a 
summer encampment, breezy hills commanding wide prospects : 
umbrageous valleys watered by bright pastoral streams, the Bronx, 
the Spraine, and the Neperan, and abounding with never-failing 
springs. The French encampment made a gallant display along 
the Greenburg hills. Some of the officers, young men of rank, to 
■whom this was all a service of romance, took a pride in decorating 
their tents, and forming little gardens in their vicinity. General 
Washington was an object of their enthusiasm. He visited the tents 
they had so gayly embellished ; for, with all his gravity, he was 
fond of the company of young men. They were apprised of his 
coming, and set out on their camp-tables plans of the battle of 
Trenton ; of West Point, and other scenes connected with the war. 
The two commanders had their respective headquarters in farm 
houses, and occasionally, on festive occasions, long tables were 



1781.] LAFAYETTE AND CVRNWALLIS, 49;^ 

spread in the adjacent barns, which were converted into banquet- 
ing halls. The young French officers gained the good graces of 
the country belles, though little acquainted with their language. 
Their encampment was particularly gay, and it was the boast of an 
old lady of the neighborhood many years after the war, that she 
had danced at headquarters when a girl with the celebrated Mar- 
shal Berthier, at that time one of the aides-de-camp of the Count 
de Rochambeau. 

Washington crossed the river at Dobbs Ferry, accompanied by 
the Count de Rochambeau, Gen. de Beville, and Gen. Duportail, 
to reconnoitre the British posts on the north end of New York 
Island. They were escorted by one hundred and fifty of the New 
Jersey troops, and spent the day on the Jersey heights ascertaining 
the exact position of the enemy on the opposite shore. Their next 
movement was to reconnoitre the enemy's posts at King's Bridge 
and on the east side of New York Island, and to cut off, if possi- 
ble, such of Delancey's corps as should be found without the Brit- 
ish lines. Five thousand troops, French and American, led by 
the Count de Chastellux and Gen. Lincoln, began their march in 
separate columns, July 21; part down the Hudson River road, 
part down the Sawmill River valley ; part by the Eastchester road. 
The whole detachment arrived at King's Bridge about daylight, and 
formed on the height back of Fort Independence. Washington 
and De Rochambeau, accompanied by engineers and by their 
staffs, set out under the escort of a troop of dragoons to reconnoitre 
t'he enemy's position and works from every point of view. It w^as 
a wide reconnaissance, extending across the country outside of the 
British lines from the Hudson to the Sound. The whole was done 
slowly and scientifically, exact notes and diagrams being made of 
everything that might be of importance in future operations. Mean- 
time light troops and lances had performed their duty in scouring 
the neighborhood. The refugee posts which had desolated the coun- 
try were broken up. Most of the refugees, Washington says, had 
fled and hid themselves in secret places ; some got over by stealth to 
the adjacent islands, and to the enemy's shipping, and a few were 
caught. The immediate effect of this threatening movement of 
Washington, appears in a letter of Sir Henry Chnton to Cornwallis, 
dated July 26th, requesting him to order three regiments to New 
York from Carolina. 

The first object of Cornwallis on the Junction of his forces at 
Petersburg, in May, was to strike a blow at Lafayette. The mar- 
quis was encamped on the north side of James River, between 
Wilton and Richmond, with about one thousand regulars, two 
thousand militia, and fifty dragoons. He was waiting for rein- 
forcements of militia, and for the arrival of Gen. Wayne, with the 
Pennsylvania line. His lordship hoped to draw him into an 
action before thus reinforced, and with that view, marched on the 
24th of May, from Petersburg to James River, which he crossed at 
Westover, about thirty miles below Richmond. Here he was 
joined on the 26th by a reinforcement just arrived from New 
York, part of which he sent under Gen. Leslie to strengthen the 



498 • IJFE OF WASHINGTON. 

garrison at Portsmouth. He was relieved also from military com- 
panionship with the infamous Arnold, who obtained leave of 
absence to return to New York, where business of importance was 
said to demand his attention. While he was in command of the 
British army in Virginia, Lafayette had refused to hold any cor- 
respondence, or reciprocate any of the civilities of war with him ; 
for which he was highly applauded by Washington. Cornwallis 
moved to dislodge Lafayette from Richmond. The latter, con- 
scious of the inferiority of his forces, decamped as soon as he heard 
his lordship had crossed James River. He now directed his 
march towards the upper country, inclining to the north, to favoi 
a juncture with Wayne. Cornwallis soon found it impossible ta 
overtake him. The great number of fine horses in the stables of 
Virginia gentlemen, who are noted for their love of the noble 
animal, had enabled the latter to mount many of his troops in first- 
rate style. These he employed in scouring the country, and 
destroying public stores. Tarleton and his legion, it is said, were 
mounted on race-horses. With one hundred and eighty cavalry 
and seventy mounted infantry, June 4th, he made a dash to 
Charlottesville, to break up the legislature, and carry off members. 
He crossed the Rivanna, which washes the hill on which Char- 
lottesville is situated ; dispersed a small force collected on the 
bank, and galloped into the town thinking to capture the whole 
assembly. Seven alone fell into his hands ; the rest had made 
their escape. No better success attended a party of horse under 
Capt. McLeod, detached to surprise the Governor (Thomas Jeffer- 
son), at his residence in Monticello, about three miles from Char- 
lottesville, where several members of the legislature were his 
guests. The dragoons were espied winding up the mountain ; the 
guests dispersed ; the family was hurried off to the residence of 
Col. Carter, six miles distant, while the Governor himself made a 
rapid retreat on horseback to Carter's Mountain. CornwaUis 
turned his face towards th"e lower part of Virginia, and made a 
retrograde march, first to Richmond, and afterwards to Williams- 
burg. Lafayette, being joined by Steuben and his forces, had 
about four thousand men under him, one half of whom were regu- 
lars. He now followed the British army at the distance of 
eighteen or twenty miles, throwing forward his light troops to 
harass their rear. Cornwallis arrived at Williamsburg on the 25th 
of June, and on the 4th of July he set out for Portsmouth. 

Greene, on the 5th of April, set out from the Deep River on a 
letrograde march to carry the war again into South Carolina, begin- 
ning by an attack on Lord Rawdon's post at Camden. Sumter 
and Marion had been keeping alive the revolutionary fire in that 
State; the former on the north-east frontier, the latter in his favor- 
ite fighting ground between the Pedee and Santee Rivers. On 
his way to Camden, Greene detached Lee to join Marion with his 
legion, and make an attack upon Fort Watson by way of diver- 
sion. For himself, he appeared before Camden, but finding it too 
strong and too well garrisoned, fell back about two miles, and took 
post at Hobkirk's Hill. Rawdon attacked him on the ^-5th of April, 



1/81.] GREENE IN SO UTH CAR OLINA, 499 

coming upon him partly by surprise. There was a hard-fought 
battle, but through some false move among part of his troops, 
Greene was obliged to retreat. His lordship had heard of the 
march of Cornwallis into Virginia, and that all hope of aid from 
him was at an end. His garrison was out of provisions. All sup- 
plies were cut off by the Americans ; he had no choice but to 
evacuate. He left Camden in flames. Immense quantities of 
stores and baggage were consumed, together with the court-house, 
the gaol, and many private houses. Rapid successes now 
attended the American arms. Fort Mott, the middle post between 
Camden and Ninety-Six, was taken by Marion and Lee. Lee 
next captured Granby, and marched to aid Pickens in the siege of 
Augusta ; while Greene, having acquired a supply of arms, ammu- 
nition, and provisions, from the captured forts, sat down before the 
fortress of Ninety-Six, on the 22d of May. It was the great mart 
and stronghold of the royalists, and was principally garrisoned by 
royalists from New Jersey and New York, commanded by Col. 
Cruger, a native of New York. The siege lasted for nearly a 
month. Lord Rawdon was but a few miles distant on the Saluda. 
The troops were eager to storm the works before he should arrive. 
A partial assault was made on the i8th of June. It was a bloody 
contest. The stockaded fort was taken, but the troops were 
repulsed from the main works. Greene retreated across the 
Saluda, and halted at Bush River, at twenty miles distance, to 
observe the motions of the enemy. Rawdon entered Ninety -Six on 
the 2ist. Leaving about one-half of his force there, under Col. 
Cruger, at the head of eleven hundred infantry, with cavalry, 
artillery, and field-pieces, he marched by the south side of the 
Saluda for the Congaree. He was pursued by Greene and Lee. 
In this march more than fifty of his soldiers fell dead from heat, 
fatigue and privation. At Orangeburg, where he arrived on the 
8th of July, he was joined by a large detachment under Col. 
Stuart. Greene had followed him closely, and having collected 
all his detachments, and being joined by Sumter, appeared within 
four miles of Orangeburg, on the loth of July, and offered battle. 
The offer was not accepted, and the position of Lord Rawdon was 
too strong to be attacked. Greene remained there two or three 
days ; when, learning that Col. Cruger was advancing with the 
residue of the forces from Ninety-Six, which would again give his 
lordship a superiority of force, he moved off with his infantry on 
the night of the 13th of July, crossed the Saluda, and posted him- 
self on the east side of the Wateree at the high hills of Santee. In 
this salubrious and delightful region, he allowed his weary soldiers 
to repose. At Orangeburg he had detached about a thousand 
light troops, under Sumter, Marion, Lee, the Hamptons, and other 
partisans, towards Charleston. Col. Henry Hampton with a party 
was posted to keep an eye on Orangeburg. Lee with his legion, 
accompanied by Lieut. -Col. Wade Hampton, and a detachment 
of cavalry, was sent to carry Dorchester, and then press forward to 
the gates of Charleston ; while Sumter with the main body, took 
up his hne of march along the road on the south side of the Con- 



500 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

garee, towards Monk's Corner. One of the best etTects of the incur- 
sion was the drawing down Lord Rawdon from Orangeburg, with five 
hundred of liis troops. He returned no more to the upper country, 
but sailed not long after from Charleston for Europe. Col. Stuart, 
who was left in command at Orangeburg, moved forward from 
that place, and encamped on the south side of the Congaree River, 
near its junction with the Wateree, and within sixteen miles of 
Greene's position on the high hills of Santee. The two armies lay- 
in sight of each other's fires, but two large rivers intervened, to 
secure each party from sudden attack. Both armies, however, 
needed repose, and mihtary operations were suspended, as if by 
mutual consent, during the sultry summer heat. The campaign 
had been a severe and trying one, and checkered with vicissi- 
tudes ; but Greene had succeeded in regaining the greater part of 
Georgia and the two Carolinas, and, as he said, only wanted a lit- 
tle assistance from the North to complete their recovery. He was 
soon rejoiced by a letter from Washington, informing him that a 
detachment from the army of Lafayette might be expected to 
bring him the required assistance. 

After the grand reconnaissance of the posts on New York Island, 
the confederate armies remained encamped about Dobbs Ferry 
and the Greenburg hills awaiting an augmentation of force for 
their meditated attack. To Washington's great disappointment, 
his army was but tardily and scantily recruited, while the garri- 
son of New York was augmented by the arrival of three thou- 
sand Hessian troops from Europe. Until we study Washing- 
ton's full, perspicuous letters, we know little of the difficulties he 
had to struggle with in conducting his campaigns; how often the 
sounding resolves of legislative bodies disappointed him; how 
often he had to maintain a bold front when his country failed 
to back him ; how often, as in the siege of Boston, he had to 
carry on the war without powder ! 

In a few days came letters from Lafayette, dated 26th and 
30th of July, speaking of the embarkation of the greatest part of 
Cornwallis's army at Portsmouth. " There are in Hampton 
Roads thirty transport ships full of troops, most of them red 
coats, and eight or ten brigs with cavalry on board." He sup- 
posed their destination to be New York, yet, though wind and 
weather were favorable, they did not sail. "Should a French 
fleet now come into Hampton Roads," adds the sanguine Mar- 
quis, "the British army would, I think, be ours." At this junc- 
ture arrived the French frigate Concorde at Newport, bringing 
despatches from Admiral the Count de Grasse. He was to leave 
St. Domingo on the 3d of August, with between twenty-five 
and thirty ships of the line, and a considerable body of land 
forces, and to steer immediately for the Chesapeake. AH attempt 
upon New York was postponed; the whole of the French army, 
and as large a part of the Americans as could be spared, were 
to move to Virginia, and cooperate with the Count de Grasse for 
the redemption of the Southern States. Washington wrote to 
Lafayette on the 15th of August: "By the time this reaches you. 




O 

C 



I78i.] COMBINED ARMY MO VES SOUTH. 501 

the Count de Grasse will either be in the Chesapeake, or may be 
looked for every moment. ' ' Should Gen. Wayne, with the troops des- 
tined for South Carolina, still remain in the neighborhood of James 
River, and the enemy have made no detachment to the southward, 
the Marquis was to detain these troops until he heard again from 
Washington, and was to inform Gen. Greene of the cause of their 
detention. "You shall hear further from me," concludes the let- 
ter, " as soon as I have concerted plans and formed dispositions 
for sending a reinforcement from hence. You will be particularly 
careful to conceal the expected arrival of the Count; because, if 
the enemy are not apprised of it, they will stay on board their 
transports in the bay, which will be the luckiest circumstance in 
the world." Washington's "soul was now in arms." At length, 
after being baffled and disappointed so often by the incompetency 
of his means, and above all, thwarted by the enemy's naval 
potency, he had the possibilty of coping with them both on land 
and sea. The contemplated expedition was likely to consummate 
his plans, and wind up the fortunes of the war, and he determined 
to lead it in person. He would take with him something more than 
two thousand of the American army; the rest, chiefly Northern 
troops, were to remain with Gen. Heath, who was to hold com- 
mand of West Point, and the other posts of the Hudson. Prepar- 
arions were still carried on, as if for an attack upon New York. 
An extensive encampment was marked out in the Jerseys, and 
ovens erected, and fuel provided for the baking of bread; as if a 
part of the besieging force was to be stationed there, thence to 
make a descent upon the enemy's garrison on Staten Island, in aid 
of the operations against the city. The American troops, them- 
selves, were kept in ignorance of their destination. Washington 
sent forward a party of pioneers to clear the roads towards King's 
Bridge, as if the posts recently reconnoitred were about to be 
attempted. On the 19th of August, his troops were paraded with 
their faces in that direction. When all were ready, however, they 
were ordered to face about, and were marched up along the Hudson 
River towards King's Ferry. De Rochambeau, in like manner, 
broke up his encampment, and took the road by White Plains, 
North Castle, Pine's Bridge, and Crompond, towards the same 
point. All Westchester County was again alive with the tramp of 
troops, the gleam of arms, and the lumbering of artillery and bag- 
bage wagons along its roads. On the 20th, Washington arrived at 
King's Ferry, and his troops began to cross the Hudson with their 
baggage, stores, and cannon, and encamped at Haverstraw. 
Thence he wrote confidentially to Lafayette, on the 21st, now first 
apprising him of his being on the march with the expedition, and 
repeating his injunctions that the land and naval forces, already at 
the scene of action, should so combine their operations, that the 
English, on the arrival of the French fleet, might not be able to 
escajje. He wrote also to the Count de Grasse, (presuming that 
the letter would find him in the Chesapeake,) urging him to send 
up all his frigates and transports to the Head of Elk, by the 8th of 
September, for the transportation of the combined army, which 



502 LIFE OF WASHING TON. 

would be there by that time. He informed him also, that the 
Count de Barras had resolved to join him in the Chesapeake \vith 
his squadron. One is reminded of the tissue of movements 
planned from a distance, which ended in the capture of Burgoyne. 
On the 22d, the French troops arrived by their circuitous route, 
and began to cross to Stony Point with their artillery, baggage, and 
stores. The operation occupied between two and three days; dur- 
ing which time Washington took the Count de Rochambeau on a 
visit to West Point, to show him the citadel of the Highlands, an 
object of intense interest, in consequence of having been the scene 
of Arnold's treason. The two armies having safely crossed the 
Hudson, commenced, on the 25th, their several lines of march 
towards the Jerseys; the Americans for Springfield on the Rah- 
■way, the French for Whippany towards Trenton. Both armies 
were still kept in the dark, as to the ultimate object of their move- 
ment, and the enemy were equally bewildered. 

Washington had in fact reached the Delaware with his troops, 
before Sir Henry Chnton was aware of their destination. It was 
too late to oppose their march, even had his forces been ade- 
quate. As a kind of counterplot, he hurried off an expedition to 
the eastward, to attack New London. The command of this 
expedition, which was to be one of ravage and destruction, was 
given to Arnold, as if it was necessary to complete the measure 
of his infamy, that he should carry fire and sword into his native 
State, and desecrate the very cradle of his infancy. On the 6th 
of September he appeared off the harbor of New London with a 
fleet of ships and transports and a force of two thousand infan- 
try and three hundred cavalry; partly British troops, but a 
great part made up of American royalists and refugees, and Hes- 
sian Yagers. New London stands on the west bank of the river 
Thames. The approach to it was defended by two forts on oppo- 
site sides of the river, and about a mile below the town; Fort 
Trumbull on the west and Fort Griswold on the east side, on a 
height called Groton Hill. The troops landed in two divisions 
of about eight hundred men each; one under Lieut.-Col. Eyre on 
the east side, the other under Arnold on the west, on the same 
side with New London, and about three miles below it. Arnold 
met with but little opposition. Col. Eyre had a harder task. 
The militia, about one hundred and fifty-seven strong, had col- 
lected in Fort Griswold, hastily and imperfectly armed it is true, 
some of them merely with spears; but they were brave men, and 
had a brave commander, Col. William Ledyard, brother of the 
celebrated traveler. The fort was square and regularly built. 
Eyre forced the pickets; made his way into the fosse, and 
attacked the fort on three sides; it was bravely defended; the 
enemy were repeatedly repulsed; they returned to the assault, 
scrambled up on each other's shoulders, effected a lodgment on 
the fraise, and made their way with fixed bayonets through the 
embrasure. Col, Eyre received a mortal wound near the works; 
Major Montgomery took his place; a negro thrust him through 
with a spear as he mounted the parapet; Major Brom field sue- 



1781.J ARNOLD BURNS NEW LONDON. 503 

ceeded to the command, and carried the fort at the point of the 
bayonet. In fact, after the enemy were within the walls, fighting 
was at an end and the slaughter commenced. Col. Ledyard, it 
is said, was thrust through with his own sword after yielding it 
up to Major Bromfield. Seventy of the garrison were slain, and 
thirty-five desperately wounded; and most of them after the fort 
had been taken. The massacre was chiefly perpetrated by the 
tories, refugees and Hessians. Major Bromfield himself was a 
New Jersey loyalist. The rancor of such men against their patriot 
countrymen was always deadly. The loss of the enemy was two 
officers and forty-six soldiers killed, and eight officers and one 
hundred and thirty-five soldiers wounded. Arnold in the mean- 
time, had carried on the work of destruction at New London. 
Some of the American shipping had effected their escap>e up the 
river, but a number were burnt. Fire, too, was set to the public 
stores; it communicated to the dwelling-houses, and, in a little 
while, the whole place was wrapped in flames. The destruction 
was immense, not only of public but private property; many fam- 
ilies once living in affluence were ruined and rendered home- 
less. Arnold retreated to his boats, leaving the town still burning. 
Alarm guns had roused the country; the traitor was pursued by 
the exasperated yeomanry; he escaped their well-merited ven- 
geance, but several of his men were killed and wounded. So 
ended his career of infamy in his native land; a land which had 
once delighted to honor him, but in which his name was never 
thenceforth to be pronounced without a malediction. 

Washington arrived at Philadelphia about noon, Aug. 30th, and 
ahghted at the city taveren amidst enthusiastic crowds, who wel- 
comed him with acclamations. During his sojourn in the city 
he was hospitably entertained at the house of Mr. Morris, the patri- 
otic financier. The greatest difficulty with which he had to con- 
tend in his present enterprise, was the want of funds, part of the 
troops not having received any pay for a long time. The ser- 
vice upon which they were going was disagreeable to the north- 
ern regiments, and the douceur of a little hard money would 
have an effect, Washington thought, to put them into a proper 
temper. In this emergency he was accommodated by the Count 
de Rochambeau, with a loan of twenty thousand hard dollars, 
which Mr. Robert Morris engaged to repay by the first of October. 
This pecuniary pressure was relieved by the arrival in Boston, on 
the 25th of August, of Col. John Laurens from the mission to 
France, bringing with him two and ahalf milhonsof livres in cash, 
being part of a subsidy of six millions of livres granted by the 
French King. On the 2d of September the American troops 
passed through Philadelphia. Their line of march, including 
appendages and attendants, extended nearly two miles. In the 
rear of every brigade were several field-pieces with ammunition 
wagons. The soldiers kept step to the sound of the drum and fife. 
Notwithstanding the dusty and somewhat ragged plight of the sol- 
diery, however, they were cheered with enthusiasm by the popu- 
lace, which hailed them as the war-worn defenders of the country. 



504 LIFE OF WASHING TON. 

The French troops entered on the following day, but in dijfferent 
style. Halting within a mile of the city, they arranged their arms 
and accoutrements; brushed the dust off their gay white uniforms 
faced with green, and then marched in with buoyant step and 
brilliant array to the swelling music of a military band. The 
streets were again thronged by the shouting populace. The win- 
dows were crowded with ladies; among whom probably were some 
of the beauties who had crowned the British knights in the chival- 
rous mime of the Mischianza, now ready to bestow smiles and 
wreaths on their Gallic rivals. At Philadelphia Washington 
received despatches from Lafayette, dated the 21st and 24th of 
August, from his camp at the Forks of York River in Virginia. 
The embarkation at Portsmouth was for Yorktown, where Corn- 
wallis had determined to establish the permanent post ordered in 
his instructions. Yorktown was a small place situated on a pro- 
jecting bank on the south side of York River, opposite a promon- 
tory called Gloucester Point. The river between was not more 
than a mile wide, but deep enough to admit ships of a large size 
and burthen. Here concentrating his forces, he had proceeded to 
fortify the opposite points, calculating to have the works finished 
by the beginning of October; at which time Sir Henry Chnton 
intended to recommence operations on the Chesapeake. Lafay- 
ette, in conformity to the instructions of Washington, was taking 
measures to cut off any retreat by land which his lordship might 
attempt on the arrival of De Grasse. He was prepared, as soon 
as he should hear of the arrival of De Grasse, to march at once to 
Williamsburg and form a junction with the troops which were to be 
landed from the fleet. Thus a net was quietly drawn round Corn- 
wallis by the youthful general, while the veteran felt himself sa 
secure that he was talking of detaching troops to New York. 

Washington left Philadelphia on the 5th of September, on his way 
to the Head of Elk. About three miles below Chester, he was met 
by an express bearing tidings of the arrival of the Count de Grasse 
in the Chesapeake with twenty-eight ships of the line. He 
instantly rode back to Chester to rejoice with the Count de Roch- 
ambeau, who was coming down to that place from Philadelphia 
by water. They had a joyous dinner together, after which Wash- 
ington proceeded in the evening on his destination. At Philadel- 
phia there had been a grand review of the French troops, at which- 
the President of Congress and all the fashion of the city were pres- 
ent. It was followed by a banquet given to the officers by the 
French Minister, the Chevalier de Luzerne. Scarcely were the 
company seated at table, when despatches came announcing the 
arrival of De Grasse and the landing of three thousand troops 
under the Marquis St. Simon, who, it was added, had opened a 
communication with Lafayette. All now was mutual gratulation 
at the banquet. The news soon went forth and spread throughout 
the city. Acclamations were to be heard on all sides, and crowds 
assembling before the house of the French Minister rent the air 
with hearty huzzas for Louis the Sixteenth. Washington reached 
the Head of Elk on the 6th. The troops and a great part of the 



1781.J THE ARMIES PUSH FOR YORKTOIVN. 505 

stores were already arrived, and beginning to embark. Thence he 
wrote to the Count de Grasse, fehcitating him on his arrival ; and 
infoiTning him that the van of the two armies were about to em- 
bark and fall down the Chesapeake, form a junction with the 
troops under the Count die St. Simon and the Marquis de Lafay- 
ette, and cooperate in blocking up Cornwallis in York River, so as 
to prevent his retreat by land or his getting any supplies from the 
country. "As it will be of the greatest importance," writes he, 
** to prevent the escape of his lordship from his present position, I 
am persuaded that every measure which prudence can dictate will 
be adopted for that purpose, until the arrival of our complete force, 
when I hope his lordship will be compelled to yield his ground to 
the superior power of our combined forces." Everything had 
thus far gone on well, but there were not vessels enough at the 
Headof Elkfor the immediate transportation of all the troops, ord- 
nance and stores; a part of the troops would have to proceed to 
Baltimore by land. Leaving Gen. Heath to bring on the Ameri- 
can forces, and the Baron de Viomenil the French, Washington, 
accompanied by De Rochambeau, crossed the Susquehanna early 
on the 8th, and pushed forward for Baltimore. He was met by a 
deputation of the citizens, who made him a public address, to 
which he replied, and his arrival was celebrated in the evening 
with illuminations. On the 9th he left Baltimore a little after 
daybreak, accompanied only by Col. Humphreys; he was determ- 
ined to reach Mount Vernon that evening. Six years had elapsed 
since last he was under its roof ; six wearing years of toil, of dan- 
ger, and of constant anxiety. During all that time, and amid all 
his military cares, he had kept up a regular weekly correspondence 
with his steward or agent, regulating all the affairs of his rural 
establishment with as much exactness as he did those of the army. 
It was a late hour when he arrived at Mount Vernon; where he 
was joined by his suite at dinner time on the following day, and by 
the Count de Rochambeau in the evening. Gen. Chastellux and 
his aides-de-camp arrived there on the nth, and Mount Vernon 
was now crowded with guests, who were all entertained in the 
ample style of old Virginia hospitality. On the 12th, tearing him- 
self away once more from the home of his heart, Washington with 
his military associates continued onward to join Lafayette at Wil« 
liamsburg. 



5o6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



CHAPTER XXII. 

COMBINED AMERICAN AND FRENCH ARMIES BEFORE YORKTOWN — 
SURRENDER OF CORNWALLIS — PEACE ! 

Lord Cornwallis had been completely roused from his dream 
of security by the appearance, on the 28th of August, of the fleet 
of Count de Grasse within the capes of the Delaware. Three 
French ships of the hne and a frigate soon anchored at the mouth 
of York River. The boats of the fleet were immediately busy con- 
veying three thousand three hundred land forces, under the 
Marquis de St. Simon, up James River to form the preconcerted 
junction with those under Lafayette. Cornwallis, as Washington 
had foreseen, meditated a retreat to the Carohnas. It was too 
late. York River was blocked up by French ships ; James River 
was filled with armed vessels covering the transportation of the 
troops. Williamsburg was too strong to be forced. Seeing his 
retreat cut off in every direction, Cornwallis proceeded to 
strengthen his works ; sending off repeated expresses to apprise 
Sir Henry Clinton of his perilous situation. The Count de Grasse, 
eager to return to the West Indies, urged Lafayette to make an 
immediate attack upon the British army, with the American and 
French troops under his command, without Avaiting for the com- 
bined force under Washington and Rochambeau, offering to aid 
him with marines and sailors from the ships. The admiral was 
seconded by the Marquis de St. Simon. It was a brilliant achieve- 
ment which they held out to tempt the youthful commander, but 
he remained undazzled. He would not, for the sake of personal 
distinction, lavish the lives of the brave men confided to him; but 
would await the arrival of the combined forces, when success 
might be attained with little loss, and would leave to Washington 
the coup de grace ; in all probability the closing triumph of the 
war. The Count de Grasse had been but a few days anchored 
within the Chesapeake, and fifteen hundred of his seamen were 
absent, conveying the troops up James River, when Admiral 
Graves, who then commanded the British naval force on the 
American coast, appeared with twenty sail off the capes of Vir- 
ginia. De Grasse, anxious to protect the squadron of the Count 
de Barras, which was expected from Rhode Island, and which it 
was the object of Graves to intercept, immediately slipped his 
cables and put to sea with twenty-four ships, leaving the rest to 
blockade York and James Rivers. His plan was to occupy the 
enemy by partial actions and skilful manoeuvres, so as to retain his 
possession of the Chesapeake, and cover the arrival of De Barras. 
The vans of the two fleets, and some ships of the centre, engaged 
about four o'cock in the afternoon of the 7th of Sept. The conflict 
soon became animated. Several ships were damaged, and many 
men killed and wounded on both sides. De Grasse, who had the 
advantage of the wind, drew off after sunset ; satisfied with the 



1 78 1 . ] CORNWALLTS ENTRAPPED. 507 

damage done and sustained, and not disposed for a general action ; 
nor was the British admiral inclined to push the engagen^ent so 
near night, and on a hostile coast. One of his ships had been so 
severely handled, that she was no longer seaworthy, and had to be 
burnt. For four days the fleets remained in sight of each other, 
repairing damages and manoeuvring, but the French having still 
the advantage of the wind, maintained their prudent pohcy of 
avoiding a general engagement. At length De Grasse, learning 
that De Barras was arrived within the capes, formed a junction 
with him, and returned with him to his former anchoring ground, 
with two English frigates which he had captured. Admiral 
Graves, finding the Chesapeake guarded by a superior force with 
which he could not prudently contend, left the coast and bore 
away for New York. Under convoy of the squadron of De Barras 
came a fleet of transports, conveying land forces under M. de 
Choisy, with siege artillery and military stores. From Williams- 
burg, Washington sent forward Count Fersen, one of the aides-de- 
camp of De Rocham'beau, to hurry on the French troops witK all 
possible despatch. He wrote to the same purport to Gen. Lincoln : 
" Every day we now lose," said he, "is comparatively an age ; 
as soon as it is in our power with safety, we ought to take our 
position near the enemy. ITurry on, then, my dear sir, with your 
troops, on the wings of speed. The want of our men and stores is 
now all that retards our immediate operations. Lord Cornwallis is 
improving every moment to the best advantage ; and every day 
that is given him to make his preparations may cost us many lives 
to encounter them." 

Washington learned that Admiral de Barras had anticipated his 
wishes, in sending transports and prize vessels up the bay to assist 
in bringing on the French troops. Washington and De Rocham- 
beau, with the Chevalier de Chastellux and Generals Knox and 
Duportail, embarked on the 1 8th, in the Queen Charlotte, which 
had been captured on its voyage from Charleston to New York, 
having Lord Hovvden on board, and proceeding down James 
River, came the next morning in sight of the French fleet riding at 
anchor in Lynn Haven Bay, just under the point of Cape Henry. 
About noon they got along-sicie of the admiral's ship, the Ville de 
Paris, and were received on board with great ceremony, and naval 
and military parade. Admiral de Grasse was a tall, fine-looking 
man, plain in his address and prompt in tlie discharge ot business. 
A plan of cooperation was soon an*anged, to be carried into effect 
on the arrival of the American and" French armies from the North, 
which were actually on their way down the Chesapeake from the 
Head of Elk. Business being despatched, dinner was served, 
after which they were conducted throughout the ships, and 
received the visits of the officers of the fleet, almost all of whom 
came on board. About sunset Washington and his companions 
returned on board their own little ship ; when the yards of all the 
ships of the fleet were manned, and a parting salute vt^as thundered 
from the Ville de Paris. It was determined that a large part of the 
French fleet should anchor in York River ; four or five vessels be 



5o8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

stationed so as to pass up and down James River, and a battery 
for cannon and mortars be erected with the aid of the aUied 
trooi?s on Point Comfort. By the 25th the American and French 
troops were mostly arrived and encamped near WilHamsburg, and 
preparations were made for the decisive blow. Cornwallis had 
fortified Yorktown by seven redoubts and six batteries on the land 
side, connected by intrenchments ; and there was a line of bat- 
teries along the river. The town was flanked on each side by deep 
ravines and creeks emptying into York River ; their heads, in front 
of the town, being not more than half a mile apart. The enemy 
had availed themselves of these natural defences, in the arrange- 
ment of extensive outworks, with redoubts strengthened by abatis ; 
field-works mounted with cannon, and trees cut down and left 
with the branches pointed outward. Gloucester Point had like- 
wise been fortified. Its defence was confided to Lieut.-Col. 
Dundas, with six or seven hundred men. The enemy's main 
army was encamped about Yorktown, within the range of the 
outer redoubts and field-works. 

Washington and his staff bivouacked that night on the ground in 
the open air. He slept under a mulberry tree, the root serving for 
his pillow. On the following morning the two armies drew out ©n 
each side of Beaver Dam Creek. The Americans, forming the 
right wing, took station on the east side of the creek ; the French, 
forming the left wing, on the west. That evening Cornwallis 
received despatches from Sir Henry Clinton, informing him of the 
arrival of Admiral Digby, and that a fleet of twenty-three ships 
of the line, with about five thousand troops, would sail to his 
assistance probably on Che 5th of October. That night his lord- 
ship abandoned his outvi'orks, and drew his troops within the town. 
These outworks were seized upon the next morning by detach- 
ments of American light infantry and French troops, and served 
to cover the troops employed in throwing up breastworks. The 
combined French and American forces were now twelve thousand 
strong, excFusive of the Virginia militia which Governor Nelson 
had brought into the field. The treasury of Virginia was empty ; 
the governor, fearful that the militia would disband for want of pay, 
pledged his own property and obtained a loan at his individual 
risk. 

On the morning of the 28th of Sept. the combined armies 
marched from Williamsburg towards Yorktown, about twelve miles 
distant, and encamped at night within two miles of it, driving in 
the pickets and some patrols of cavalry. Gen. de Choisy was sent 
across York River, with Lauzun's legion and Gen. Weedon's 
brigade of militia, to watch the enemy on the side of Gloucester 
Point. By the first of October the line of the besiegers nearly two 
miles from the works, formed a semicircle, each end resting on the 
river, so that the investment by land was complete ; while the 
Count de Grasse, with the main fleet, remained in Lynn Haven 
Bay, to keep off assistance by sea. About this time the Americans 
threw up two redoubts in the night, which, on being discovered in 
the morning, were severely cannonaded. Three of the men were 



1/81.] SIEGE OF YORK TOWN. 509 

killed and several severely wounded. While Washington was 
superintending the works, a shot struck the ground close by him, 
throwing up a cloud of dust. The Rev. Mr. Evans, chaplain in 
the aiTny, who was standing by him, was greatly agitated. Tak- 
ing off his hat and showing it covered with sand, "See here, Gen- 
eral," exclaimed he. "Mr. Evans," said Washington with grave 
pleasantry, "you had better carry that home, and show it to your 
wife and children." The besieged army began now to be greatly 
distressed for want of forage, and had to kiU many of their horses, 
the carcasses of which were continually floating down the river. 
In the evening of the 2d of October Tarleton with his legion and the 
mounted infantry were passed over the river to Gloucester Point, to 
assist in foraging. At daybreak Lieut. -Col. Dundas led out part 
of his gaiTison to forage the neighboring country. About ten 
o'clock the wagons and bat horses laden with Indian corn were 
returning, and had nearly reached York River, when they en- 
countered Lauzun and the French hussars and lancers. A skir- 
mish ensued, gallantly sustained on each side, but the superiority 
of Tarleton' s horses gave him the advantage. Gen. Choisy 
hastened up with a corps of cavalry and infantry to support the 
hussars. Tarleton ordered a retreat to be sounded, and the con- 
flict came to an end. The loss of the British in killed and wounded 
was one officer and eleven men ; that of the French two officers 
and fourteen hussars. This was the last affair of Tarleton and his 
legion in the revolutionary war. The next day Gen. Choisy, being 
reinforced by a detachment of marines from the fleet of De 
Grasse, cut off all communication by land between Gloucester and 
the country. 

For some weeks in the months of July and August, Gen. Greene 
had remained encamped with his main force on the high hills of 
Santee, refreshing and disciplining his men. In the meantime, 
Marion with his light troops, aided by Col. Washington with his 
dragoons, held control over the lower Santee. Lee was detached 
to operate with Sumter's brigade on the Congaree, and Col. Harden 
with his mounted militia was scouring the country about the Edisto.* 
The enemy was thus harassed in every quarter; their convoys and 
foraging parties waylaid; and Stuart was obHged to obtain all his 
supplies from below. Greene prepared for a bold effort to drive 
the enemy from their remaining posts. For that purpose, on the 
22d of August he broke up his encampment on the "benign hills 
of Santee," to march against Col. Stuart. The latter still lay 
encamped about sixteen miles distant in a straight line; but the 
Congaree and Wateree lay between, bordered by swamps over- 
flowed by recent rains : to cross them and reach the hostile camp, 
it was necessary to make a circuit of seventy miles. While Greene 
was making it Stuart abandoned his position, and moved down 
forty miles to the vicinity of Eutaw Springs, where he was rein- 
forced by a detachment from Charleston with provisions. Greene 
followed on slowly to give time for Marion, who was scouring the 
country about the Edisto, to rejoin him. This was done on the 5th 
of September at Laurens' place, and on the afternoon of the seventh 



5IO LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the army was pushed on within seven miles of the Eutaws, where 
it bivouacked for the night, Greene lying on the ground wrapped 
in his cloak, with the root of a tree for a pillow. At four o'clock 
in the morning his little army was in motion. His whole force at 
that time did not exceed two thousand men; that of the enemy he 
was seeking, about twenty-three hundred. His army advanced in 
two columns, which were to form the two lines of battle. The 
first column, commanded by Gen. Marion, was composed of two 
battalions of North --and two of South Carolina militia. The 
second column of three brigades; one of North Carolina, one of 
Virginia, and one of Maryland Continental troops. Col. Lee with 
his legion covered the right flank, Col. Henderson the left. Col. 
Washington, with his dragoons and the Delaware troops, formed 
the reserve. Each column had two field-pieces. Within four 
miles of Eutaw they met with a British detachment of one hundred 
and fifty infantry and fifty cavalry under Major Coffin, sent for- 
ward to reconnoitre; it was put to flight after a severe skirmish, in 
which a number were killed and wounded, and several taken 
prisoners. Within a mile of the camp they encountered a body of 
infantry drawn up in line in a wood two hundred yards west of 
Eutaw Springs. The right rested on Eutaw Creek (or brook), and 
was covered by a battalion of grenadiers and infantry under Major 
Majoribanks. The left of the line extended across the Charleston 
road, with a reserve corps in a commanding situation covering the 
road. About fifty yards in the rear of the British line was a cleared 
field, in which was their encampment, with the tents all standing. 
Adjoining it was a brick house with a palisadoed garden, which 
Col, Stuart intended as a protection, if too much pressed by 
cavalry. The advanced party of infantry, which had retired 
firing before the Americans, formed on the flanks of Col, Stuart's 
line. About nine o'clock the action was commenced by the left of 
the American line, and soon became general; there was great 
carnage on both sides. The militia fought until they had expended 
seventeen rounds, when they gave way, covered by Lee and 
Henderson, who fought bravely on the flanks of the line. Sum- 
ner, with the regulars who formed the second line, advanced in 
fine style to take the place of the first. The enemy likewise 
brought their reserve into action; the conflict continued to be 
bloody and severe. Col. Henderson, who commanded the State 
troops in the second line, was severely wounded; this caused some 
confusion. Sumner's brigade, formed partly of recruits, gave way 
under the superior fire of the enemy. The British rushed forward 
to secure their fancied victory. Greene, seeing their line disor- 
dered, instantly ordered Williams with his Mary landers to " sweep 
the field with the bayonet." William.s was seconded by Col. 
Campl^ell with the Virginians. The order was gallantly obeyed. 
They delivered a deadly volley at forty yards' distance, and then 
advanced at a brisk rate, with loud shouts and trailed arms, pre- 
pared to make the deadly thrust. The British recoiled. While 
the Marylanders and Virginians attacked them in front, Lee with 
his legion turned their left flank and charged them in rear. Col. 



1781.] BA TTLE OF EUTA W SPRINGS. 5 1 1 

Hampton with the State cavalry made a great number of prisoners, 
and Col. Washington, coming up with his reserve of horse and 
foot, completed their defeat. They were driven back through 
their camp; many were captured; many fled along the Charleston 
road, and ethers threw themselves into the brick house. Major 
Majoribanks and his troops could still enfilade the left flank of the 
Americans from their covert among the thickets on the border of 
the stream, Greene ordered Col. Washington with his dragoons 
and KirkAvood's Delaware infantry to dislodge them, and Col. 
Wade Hampton to assist with the State troops. Col. Washington, 
without Availing for the infantry, dashed forward with his dragoons. 
It was a rash move. The thickets were impervious to cavalry. 
The dragoons separated into small squads, and endeavored to 
force their way in. Horses and riders were shot down or bayon- 
eted; most of the officers were either killed or wounded. Col. 
Washington had his horse shot under him; he himself was 
bayoneted, and a British officer took him prisoner. By the time 
Hampton and Kirkwood came up, the cavalry were routed; the 
ground was strewed with the dead and the wounded; horses were 
plunging and struggling in the agonies of death; others galloping 
about without their riders. While Hampton rallied the scattered 
cavalry, Kirkwood with his Delawares charged with bayonet upon 
the enemy in the thickets. Majoribanks fell back with his troops, 
and made a stand in the palisadoed garden of the brick house. 
Victory now seemed certain on the side of the Americans. They 
had driven the British from the field, and had taken possession of 
their camp; unfortunately, the soldiers, thinking the day their own, 
fell to plundering the tents, devouring the food and carousing on 
the liquors found there. Many of them became intoxicated and 
unmanageable — the officers interfered in vain; all was riot and 
disorder. The enemy in the meantime recovered from their 
confusion, and opened a fire from every window of the house and 
from the palisadoed garden. There was a scattering fire also from 
the woods and thickets on the right and left. Four cannon, one 
of which had been captured from the enemy, were now advanced 
by the Americans to batter the house. The fire from the Avindows 
Avas so severe, that most of the officers and men who served the can- 
non Avere either killed orAvounded. Greene ordered the survivors 
to retire : they did so, leaving the cannon behind. Col. Stuart was 
by this time rallying his left wing, and advancing to support the right; 
when Greene, finding his ammunition nearly exhausted, determined 
to give up the attempt to dislodge the enemy from their places of 
refuge, since he could not do it without severe loss. He remained 
on the ground long enough to collect his Avounded, excepting those 
Avho Avere too much under the fire of the house, and then, leaving 
Col. Hampton Avith a strong picket on the field, he returned to the 
position seven miles off, Avhich he had left in the morning. The 
enemy decamped in the night after destroying a large quantity of 
provisions, staving many barrels of rum, and breaking upAvards of 
a thousand stand of arms Avhich they thrcAv into the springs of the 
Eutaw; they left behind also seventy of their wounded, Avho might 



512 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

have impeded the celerity of their retreat. Their loss in killed, 
•wounded, and captured, in this action, was six hundred and thirty- 
three, of whom five hundred were prisoners in the hands of the 
Americans; the loss sustained by the latter in killed, wounded and 
missing, was five hundred and thirty-five. One of the slain most 
deplored was Col. Campbell, who had so bravely led on the Vir- 
ginians. He fell in the shock of the charge with the bayonet. It 
■was a glorious close of a gallant career. In his dying moments 
he was told of the defeat of the enemy, and is said to have uttered 
the celebrated ejaculation of General Wolfe, " I die contented." 
Gen. Lincoln had the honor, on the night of the 6th of October, 
of opening the first parallel before Yorktown. It was within six 
hundred yards of the enemy; nearly two miles in extent, and the 
foundations were laid for two redoubts. He had under him a large 
detachment of French and American troops, and the work was 
conducted with such silence and secrecy in a night of extreme 
darkness, that the enemy were not aware of it until dayhght. A 
severe cannonade was then opened from the fortifications; but the 
men were under cover and continued working; the greatest emula- 
tion and good will prevailing between the officers and soldiers of 
the allied armies thus engaged. By the afternoon of the 9th the 
parallel was completed, and two or three batteries were ready to 
fire upon the town. " General Washington put the match to the 
first gun," says an observer who was present; "a furious discharge 
of cannon and mortars immediately followed, and Earl Cornwallis 
received his first salutation."" Gov. Nelson, who had so nobly 
pledged his own property to raise funds for the public service, 
gave another proof of his self-sacrificing patriotism on this occa- 
sion. He was asked which part of the town could be most effec- 
tively cannonaded. He pointed to a large handsome house on a 
rising ground as the probable headquarters of the enemy. It 
proved to be his own. The governor had an uncle in the town, 
very old, and afilicted with the gout. He had been for thirty years 
secretary under the royal colonial government, and was still called 
Mr. Secretary Nelson. He had taken no part in the Revolution, 
unfitted, perhaps, for the struggle, by his advanced age and his 
infirmities; and had remained in Yorktown when taken possession 
of by the English. He had two sons in Washington's army, who 
now were in the utmost alarm for his safety. At their request 
Washington sent in a flag, desiring that their father might be 
permitted to leave the place. Cornwallis granted the request. The 
appearance of the venerable secretary, his stately person, noble 
countenance and gray hairs, commanded respect and veneration. 
He related with a serene visage what had been the effect of our 
batteries. His house had received some of the first shots; one of 
his negroes had been killed, and the headquarters of Lord Corn- 
wallis had been so battered, that he had been driven out of them. 
The cannonade was kept up almost incessantly for three or four 
days from the batteries above mentioned, and from three others 
managed by the French. The half-finished works of the enemy 
suffered severely, the guns were dismounted or silenced, and many 



I78i.] SIEGE OF YORKTOWN. 513 

men killed. The red-hot shot from the French batteries north-west 
of the town reached the Enghsh shipping. The Charon, a forty- 
four gun ship, and three large transports, were set on fire by them. 
The flames ran up the ragging to the tops of the masts. The con- 
flagration, seen in the darkness of the night, with the accompany- 
ing flash and thundering of cannon, and soaring and bursting of 
shells; and the tremendous explosions of the ships, all presented a 
scene of mingled magnificence and horror. On the night of the 
nth the second parallel wks opened by the Baron Steuben's divis- 
ion, within three hundred yards of the works. The British now 
made new embrasures, and for two or three days kept up a galling 
fire upon those at work. The latter were still more annoyed by 
the flanking fire of two redoubts three hundred yards in front of 
the British works. As they enfiladed the intrenchments, and were 
supposed also to command the communication between Yorktown 
and Gloucester, it was resolved to storm them both, on the night 
of the 14th; the one nearest the river by a detachment of Ameri- 
oans commanded by Lafayette; the other by a French detach- 
ment led by the Baron de Viomenil. The grenadiers of the 
rogiment of Gatinais were to be at the head of the French detach- 
ment. This regiment had been formed out of that of Auvergne, 
of which De Rochambeau had been colonel, and which, by its 
brave and honorable conduct, had won the appellation of the 
regiment U Auvergne sans tache (Auvergne without a stain). 
In the arrangements for the American assault Lafayette had given 
the honor of leading the advance to his own aide-de-camp, Lieut. - 
Col. Gimat. This instantly touched the military pride of Hamilton, 
who exclaimed against it as an unjust preference. Washington 
sent for the marquis, and, finding that it really was Hamilton's 
tour of duty, directed that he should be reinstated in it, which was 
done. It was therefore arranged that Col. Gimat' s battalion should 
lead the van, and be followed by that of Hamilton, and that the 
latter should command the whole advanced corps. About eight 
o'clock in the evening rockets were sent up as signals for the 
simultaneous attack. Hamilton, to his great joy, led the advance 
of the Americans. The men, without waiting for the sapf>ers to 
demolish the abatis in regular style, pushed them aside or pulled 
them down with their hands, and scrambled over, like rough bush- 
fighters. Hamilton was the first to mount the parapet, placing 
one foot on the shoulder of a soldier, who knelt on one knee for 
the purpose. The men mounted after him. Not a musket was 
fired. The redoubt was carried at the point of the bayonet. The 
loss of the Americans was one sergeant and eight privates killed, 
seven officers and twenty-five non-commissioned officers and 
privates wounded. The loss of the enemy was eight killed and 
seventeen taken prisoners. Among the latter was Major Camp>- 
bell, who had commanded the redoubt. The French stormed the 
other redoubt, which was more strongly garrisoned, with equal 
gallantry, but less precipitation. They proceeded according to 
rule. The soldiers paused while the sappers removed the abatis^ 
during vihich time they were exposed to a destructive fire, and lost 
17 



514 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

more men than did the Americans in their headlong attack. As 
the Baron de Viomenil, who led the party, was thus waiting, 
Major Barbour, Lafayette's aide-de-camp, came through the 
tremendous fire of the enemy, with a message from the marquis, 
letting him know that he was in his redoubt, and wished to know 
where the Baron was. "Tell the marquis," repHed the latter, 
"that I am not in mine, but will be in it in five minutes." The 
abatis being removed, the troops rushed to the assault. The 
Chevalier de Lameth, Lafayette's adjutant-general, was the first 
to mount the parapet of the redoubt, and received a volley at 
arms' length from the Hessians who manned it. Shot through 
both knees, he fell back into the ditch, and was conveyed away 
imder care of his friend, the Count de Dumas. The Count de 
Deuxponts, leading on the royal grenadiers of the same name, 
was likewise wounded. The grenadiers of the Gatinais regiment 
fought with true Gallic fire. One third of them were slain, and 
among them Captain de Sireuil, a valiant officer of chasseurs; but 
the regiment by its bravery on this occasion regained from the 
king its proud name of the Royal Ativergne. Washington was 
an ihtensely excited spectator of these assaults, on the result of 
which so much depended. He had dismounted, given his horse 
to a servant, and taken his stand in the grand battery with Generals 
Knox and Lincoln and their staffs. The risk he ran of a chance 
shot, while watching the attack through an embrasure, made those 
about him uneasy. One of his aides-de-camp ventured to observe 
that the situation was very much exposed. " If you think so," 
replied he gravely, "you are at liberty to step back." Shortly 
afterwards a musket ball struck the cannon in the embrasure, 
rolled along it, and fell at his feet. Gen. Knox grasped his arm. 
"My dear general," exclaimed he, "we can't spare you yet." 
" It is a spent ball," replied Washington quietly; "no harm is 
done." When all was over and the redoubts were taken, he drew 
a long breath, and turning to Knox, observed, " The work is done, 
and well done f' Then he called to his servant, " William, bring 
me my horse. " In his despatches he declared that in these assaults 
nothing could exceed the firmness and bravery of the troops. 
Lafayette also testified to the conduct of Col. Hamilton, "whose 
well-known talents and gallantry," writes he, "were on this occa- 
sion most conspicuous and serviceable." The redoubts thus taken 
were included the same night in the second parallel, and howitzers 
were mounted upon them the following day. The capture of them 
reduced Lord Cornwalhs almost to despair. Writing that same 
day to Sir Henry Clinton, he observes, " My situation now becomes 
very critical; we dare not show a gun to their old batteries, and I 
expect that their new ones will open to-morrow morning. The 
safety of the j^ace is, therefore, so precarious, that I cannot recom- 
mend that the fleet and army should run great risk in endeavor- 
ing to save us." The second parallel was now nearly ready to 
open. Cornwalhs dreaded the effect of its batteries on his almost 
dismantled works. To retard the danger as much as possible, he 
ordered an attack on two of the batteries that were in the greatest 



t78i.] CORNIVALLIS TRIES TO ESCAPE. 515 

state of forwardness. It was made a little before daybreak of the 
l6th, by about three hundred and fifty men, under the direction 
of Lieut. -Col. Abercrombie. He divided his forces; a detachment 
of guards and a company of grenadiers attacked one battery, and 
a corps of light infantry the other. The redoubts which covered 
the batteries were forced in gallant style, and several pieces of 
artillery hastily spiked. By this time the supporting troops from the 
trenches came up, and the enemy were obliged to retreat, leaving 
behind them seven or eight dead and six prisoners, The French 
who had guard of this part of the trenches, had four officers and 
twelve privates killed or wounded, and tlie Americans lost one 
sergeant. The mischief had been done too hastily. The spikes 
were easily extracted, and before evening all the batteries and the 
parallel were nearly complete. At this time the garrison could 
not show a gun on the side of the works exposed to attack, and 
the shells were nearly expended; the place was no longer tenable. 
Rather than surrender, Cornwallis detennined to attempt an 
escape. In pursuance of this design, sixteen large boats were 
secretly prepared; a detachment was appointed to remain and 
capitulate for the town's people, the sick and the wounded; a large 
part of the troops were transported to the Gloucester side of the 
river before midnight, and the second division had actually 
embarked, when a violent storm of wind and rain scattered the 
boats, and drove them a considerable distance down the river. 
They were collected with difficulty. It was now too late to effect 
the passage of the second division before daybreak, and an effort 
was made to get back the division which had already crossed. It 
was not done until the morning was far advanced, and the troops 
in recrossing were exposed to the fire of the American batteries. 
The hopes of Cornwallis were now at an end. His works were 
tumbling in ruins about him, under an incessant cannonade; his 
garrison was reduced in number by sickness and death, and 
exhausted by constant watching and Severe duty. Unwilling to 
expose the residue of the brave troops which had stood by him so faith- 
fully, to the dangers and horrors of an assault, which could not 
fail to be successful, he ordered a parley to be beaten about ten 
o' clock on the morning of the 1 7th of October and despatched a flag 
with a letter to Washington proposing a cessation of hostilities for 
twenty-four hours, and that two officers might be appointed by 
each side to meet and settle terms for the surrender of the posts 
of York and Gloucester. Washington felt unwilling to grant such 
delay, when reinforcements might be on the way for Cornwallis 
from New York. In reply, therefore, he requested that, previous 
to the meeting of commissioners, his lordship's proposals might be 
sent in writing to the American lines, for which purpose a suspen- 
sion of hostilities during two hours from the delivery of the letter, 
would be granted. This was complied with; but as the proposals 
offered by Cornwallis were not all admissible, Washington drew 
up a schedule of such terms as he would grant, and transmitted 
it to his lordship. The armistice was prolonged. Commissioners 
met, the Viscount de Noailles and Liout.-Col. Laurens on the pait 



5i6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

of the allies; Col. Dundas and Major Ross on the part of the 
British. After much discussion, a rough draft was made of the 
terms of capitulation to be submitted to the British general. These 
Washington caused to be promptly transcribed, and sent to Lord 
Cornwallis early in the morning of the 19th, with a note expressing 
his expectation that they would be signed by eleven o'clock, and 
that the garrison would be ready to march out by two o'clock in 
the afternoon. Cornwallis was fain to comply, and, accordingly, 
on the same day, the posts of Yorktown and Gloucester were 
surrendered to Gen. Washington as commander-in-chief of the 
combined army; and the ships of war, transports and other vessels, 
to the Count de Grasse, as commander of the French fleet. The 
garrison of Yorktown and Gloucester, including the officers of the 
navy and seamen of every denomination, were to surrender as 
prisoners of war to the combined army; the land force to remain 
prisoners to the United States, the seamen to the King of France. 
The garrison was to be allowed the same honors granted to the 
garrison of Charleston when it surrendered to Sir Henry Clinton. 
The officers were to retain their side anns ; both officers and 
soldiers their private property, and no part of their baggage or 
papers was to be subject to search or inspection. The soldiers 
were to be supplied with the same rations of provisions as the 
American soldiers. The officers were to be permitted to proceed, 
upon parole, to Europe or to any maritime port on the continent of 
America in possession of British troops. The Bonetta sloop-of-war 
was to be at the disposal of Lord Cornwallis; to convey an aide- 
de-camp with despatches to Sir Henry Clinton, with such soldiers 
as he might think proper to send to New York, and was to sail 
Avitfiout examination. Gen. Lincoln received the submission of 
the royal army, precisely in the manner in which the submission of 
his own arn'iy had been received on the surrender of Charleston. 
An eye-witness has given us a graphic description of the ceremony. 
"At about 12 o'clock the combined army was drawn up in two 
lines more than a mile in length, the Americans on the right side 
of the road, the French on the left. Washington, mounted on a 
noble steed, and attended by his staff, was in front of the former; 
the Count de Rochambeau and his suit, of the latter. The French 
troops, in complete uniform, and well equipped, made a brilliant 
appearance, and had marched to the ground with a band of music 
playing, which was a novelty in the American service. The 
American troops, but part in uniform, and all in garments much 
the worse for wear, yet had a spirited, soldier-hke air, and were 
not the worse in the eyes of their countrymen for bearing the 
marks of hard service and great privations. The concourse of 
spectators from the country seemed equal in number to the military, 
yet silence and order prevailed. About two o'clock the garrison 
salhed forth, and passed through with shouldered arms, slow and 
solemn steps, colors cased, and drums beating a British march. 
They were all well clad, having been furnished with new suits 
prior to the capitulation. They were led by Gen. O'Hara on horse- 
back, who, riding up to General Washington, took off his hat and 



iySj.] SURRENDER OF THE BRITISH ARMY. 517 

apologized for the non-appearance of Lord Cornwallis, on account 
of indisposition. Washington received him with dignified cour- 
tesy, but pointed to Major-general Lincoln as the officer Avho was 
to receive the submission of the garrison. By him they were con- 
ducted into a field where they were to ground their arms. In pass- 
ing through the line formed by the allied army, their march was 
careless and irregular, and their aspect sullen, the order to "ground 
arms'* was given by their platoon officers with a tone of deep 
chagrin, and many of the soldiers threw down their muskets with 
a violence sufficient to break them. This ceremony over, they 
were conducted back to Yorktown, to remain under guard until 
removed to their places of destination." The number of prison- 
ers made by the capitulation (says Holmes's Annals) amounted to 
7,073, of whom 5,950 were rank and file ; six commissioned, and 
twenty-eight non-commissioned officers, and privates, had previ- 
ously been captured in the two redoubts, or in tlie sortie of the 
garrison. The loss sustained by the garrison during the siege, 
in killed, wounded, and missing, amounted to 552. That of the 
combined army in killed was about 300. The combined army to 
which Cornwallis surrendered, was estimated at 16,000, of whom 
7,000 were French, 5,500 continentals, and 3,500 militia. 

On the following morning, Washington in general orders con- 
gratulated the allied armies on the recent victory, awarding high 
praise to the officers and troops both French and American, for 
their conduct during the siege, and specifying by name several of 
the generals and other officers who had especially distinguished 
themselves. All those of his army who were under arrest, were 
pardoned and set at liberty. " Divine service," it was added, "is 
to be performed to-morrow in the several brigades and divisions. 
The commander-in-chief earnestly recommends that the troops, 
not on duty, should universally attend, with that seriousness of 
deportment and gratitude of heart which the recognition of such 
reiterated and astonishing interpositions of Providence demand of 
us." CornwaUis felt deeply the humiliation of this close to all his 
wide and wild campaigning, and was made the more sensitive on 
the subject by circumstances of which he soon became apprised. 
On the very day that he had been compelled to lay down his arms 
before Yorktown, the lingering armament intended for his rehef 
sailed from New York. It consisted of twenty-five ships of the 
line, two fifty-gun ships, and eight frigates, with Sir Henry Clinton 
and seven thousand of his best troops. Sir Henry arrived off the 
Capes of Virginia on the 24th. He hovered off the mouth of the 
Chesapeake until the 29th, when, having fully ascertained that he 
had come too late, he turned his tardy prows toward New York. 

In the meantime, the rejoicings which Washington had com- 
menced with appropriate solemnities in the victorious camp, had 
spread throughout the Union. " CornwalUs is taken!" was the 
universal acclaim. It was considered a death-blow to the war. 
'Congress gave way to transports of joy. Thanks were voted to 
the commander-in-chief, to the Counts De Rochambeau and De 
Grasse, to the officers of the allied armies generally, and to the 



5i8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

corps of artillery and engineers especially. Two stands of colors, 
trophies of the capitulation, were voted to Washington, two pieces 
of field ordnance to De Rochambeau and De Grasse ; and it was 
decreed that a marble col-umn, commemorative of the alliance be- 
tw^een France and the United States, and of the victory achieved 
by their associated arms, should be erected in Yorktown. Finally. 
Congress issued a proclamation, appointing a day for general 
thanksgiving and prayer, in acknowledgment of this signal inter- 
position of Divine Providence. Far different was the feeling of 
the Bridsh ministry when news of the event reached the other side 
of the Atlantic. Lord George Germain was the first to announce 
it to Lord North at his office in Downing street. "And how did 
he take it?" was the inquiry. "As he would have taken a ball in 
the breast," replied Lord George, "for he opened his arms, ex- 
claiming wildly as he paced up and down the apartment, 'Oh 
God! it is all over! 

Washington would have followed up the reduction of Yorktown 
by a combined operation against Charleston, and addressed a let- 
ter to the Count de Grasse on the subject, but the count alleged in 
reply that the orders of his court, ulterior projects, and his engage- 
ments with the Spaniards, rendered it impossilDle to remain the nec- 
essary time for the operation. The prosecution of the Southern 
war, therefore, upon the broad scale which Washington had con- 
templated, had to be relinquished ; and he detached two thousand 
Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia Continental troops, under 
Gen. St. Clair, for the support of Gen. Greene, trusting that, with 
this aid, he would be able to command the interior of South Caro- 
lina, and confine the enemy to the town of Charleston. A dissolu- 
tion of the combined forces now took place. The Marquis St. 
Simon embarked his troops on the last of October, and the Count de 
Grasse made sail on the 4th of November,taking w-ith him two beauti- 
ful horses which W^ashington had presented to him in token of 
cordial regard. The British prisoners were marched to Winchester 
in Virginia, and Frederickstown in Maryland, and Lord Corn- 
wallis "and his principal officers sailed for New York on parole. 
The main part of the American army embarked for the Head of 
Elk, and returned northward under the command of Gen. Lincoln, 
to be cantoned for the winter in the Jerseys and on the Hudson. 
The French army were to remain for the winter, in Virginia, and 
the Count de Rochambeau established his headquarters at Wil- 
liamsburg. Washington left Yorktown on the 5th of November, 
and arrived the same day at Eltham, the seat of his friend Col. 
Bassett. Pie arrived just in time to receive the last breath of John 
Parke Custis, the son of Mrs. Washington, as he had, several 
years previously, rendered tender and pious offices at the death- 
bed of his sister. Miss Custis. The deceased had been an object 
of Washington's care from childhood, and been cherished by him 
with paternal affection. Formed under his guidance and instruc- 
tions, he had been fitted to take a part in the public concerns of 
his country, and had acquitted himself with credit as a member of 
the Virginia Legislature. He was but twenty-eight years old at 



1782.] PROSPECTS OF PEACE, 519 

the time of his death, and left a widow and four young children. 
It was an unexpected event, and the dying scene was rendered 
peculiarly affecting from the presence of the mother and wife of 
the deceased. Washington remained several days at Eltham to 
comfort them in their afflictions. As a consolation to Mrs. Wash- 
ington in her bereavement, he adopted the two youngest children 
of the deceased, a boy and girl, who thenceforth formed a part of 
his immediate family. From Eltham he proceeded to Mount 
Vernon ; but public cares gave him little leisure to attend to his 
private concerns. We have seen how repeatedly his steady mind 
had been exercised in the darkest times of the revolutionary strug- 
gle, in buoying up the public heart when sinking into despondency. 
He had now an opposite task to perform, to guard against an 
overweening confidence inspired by the recent triumph. In a let- 
ter to Gen. Greene, he writes: "I shall remain but a few days 
here, and shall proceed to Philadelphia, when I shall attempt to 
stimulate Congress to the best improvement of our late success, by 
taking the most vigorous and effectual measures to be ready for an 
early and decisive campaign the next year." In a letter to 
Lafayette, who, having obtained from Congress an indefinite 
leave of absence, was about to sail, he says : " I owe it to 
your friendship and to my affectionate regard for you, my dear 
marquis, not to let you leave this country, without carrying with 
you fresh marks of my attachment to you, and new expressions of 
the high sense I entertain of your military conduct, and other im- 
portant services in the course of the last campaign." In reply to 
inquiries which the marquis had made respecting the operations of 
the coming year, he declares that everything must depend abso- 
lutely for success upon the naval force to be employed in these 
seas and the time of its appearance. " A doubt did not exist, nor 
does it at this moment, in any man's mind, of the total extirpation 
of the British force in the Carolinas and Georgia, if the Count de 
Grasse could have extended his cooperation two months longer." 
Towards the end of November, Washington was in Philadelphia, 
where Congress received him with distinguished honors. 

He again established his headquarters at Newburg on the Hud- 
son. The solicitude felt by him on account of the universal 
relaxation of the sinews of war, was not allayed by reports of 
pacific speeches, and motions made in the British parliament, 
which might be delusive. " No nation," said he, " ever yet suffered 
in treaty by preparing, even in the moment of negotiation, most 
vigorously for the field." 

Sir Guy Carleton arrived in New York early in May to take the 
place of Sir Henry Clinton, who had solicited his recall. In a let- 
ter dated May 7th, Sir Guy informed Washington of his being 
joined with Admiral Digby in the commission of peace ; he trans- 
mitted at the same time printed copies of the proceedings in the 
House of Commons on the 4th of March respecting an address to 
the king in favor of peace ; and of a bill reported in consequence 
•thereof, authorizing the king to conclude a peace or truce with the 
revolted provinces of North America, 



520 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Great discontents prevailed at this time in the army, both among 
officers and men. There was scarce money sufficient to feed the 
troops from day to day; indeed, there were days when they were 
absolutely in want of provisions. The pay of the officers, too, was 
greatly in arrear ; many of them doubted whether they would ever 
receive the half-pay decreed to them by Congress for a term of 
years after the conclusion of the war, and fears began to be ex- 
pressed that, in the event of peace, they would all be disbanded 
with their claims unliquidated, and themselves cast upon the com- 
munity penniless, and unfitted, by long military habitudes, for the 
gainful pursuits of peace. At this juncture, Washington received 
an extraordinary letter from Col. Lewis Nicola, a veteran officer, 
once commandant of Fort Mifflin, who had been inhabits of inti- 
macy with him, and had warmly interceded in behalf of the suffer- 
ing army. In this letter he attributed all the ills experienced and 
anticipated by the army and the public at large, to a repubhcan 
form of government, and advised a mixed government like that of 
England. "In that case," he adds, "it will, I believe, be un- 
controverted, that the same abilities which have led us through 
difficulties apparently insurmountable by human power, to victory 
and glory ; those qualities that have merited and obtained the uni- 
versal esteem and'veneration of an army, would be most likely to 
conduct and direct us in the smoother paths of peace." Washing- 
ton saw at once that Nicola was but the organ of a mihtary fac- 
tion, disposed to make the army the basis of an energetic govern- 
ment, and to place him at the head. The suggestion, backed by 
the opportunity, might have tempted a man of meaner ambition : 
from him it drew the following indignant letter : " If I am not 
deceived in the knowledge of myself, you could not have found a 
person to whom your schemes are more disagreeable. Let me 
conjure you, if you have any regard for your country, concern for 
yourself, or posterity, or respect for me, to banish these thoughts 
from your mind, and never communicate, as from yourself or any 
one else, a sentiment of the like nature." 

On the 2d of August, Sir Guy Carleton and Admiral Digby 
wrote a joint letter to Washington, informing him that negotiations 
for a general peace had already been commenced at Paris, and 
that the independence of the United States would be proposed in 
the first instance by the British commissioner, instead of being 
made a condition of a general treaty. Even yet, Washington was 
wary. " From the former infatuation, duplicity, and perverse sys- 
tem of British policy," said he, "I confess I am induced to doubt 
everything; to suspect everything." No offers had been made on 
the part of Great Britain, for a general cessation of hostilities, and, 
although the British commanders were in a manner tied down by 
the resolves of the House of Commons, to a defensive war only in 
the United States, they might be at liberty to transport part of their 
force to the West Indies, to act against the French possessions in 
that quarter. He wrote to the Count de Rochambeau advising him, 
for the good of the common cause, to march his troops to the 
banks of the Hudson, and form a junction with the American 



1783.J GRIEVANCES OF THE ARMY. 521 

army. The junction took place about the middle of September. 
The French army crossed the Hudson at King's Ferry to Ver- 
planck's Point, where the American forces were paraded under 
arms to welcome them. The clothing and arms recently received 
from France or captured at Yorktown, enabled them to make an 
unusually respectable appearance. The French army encamped 
on the left of the American, near the Crompond, about ten miles 
from Verplanck's Point. The greatest good will continued to pre- 
vail between the allied forces, though the Americans had but little 
means of showing hospitality to their gay Gallic friends. 

Washington established his headquarters at Newburgh. In the 
leisure and idleness of a winter camp, the discontents of the army 
had time to ferment. The arrearages of pay became a topic of 
constant and angry comment, as well as the question whether the 
resolution of Congress, granting half pay to officers who should 
serve to the end of the war, would be carried into effect. The 
national treasury was empty; the States were slow to tax them- 
selves; the resource of foreign loans was nearly exhausted. The 
articles of confederation required the concurrence of nine States 
to any act appropriating money. There had never been nine 
States in favor of the half pay establishment; was it probable that 
as many would concur in the payment of claims known to be 
unpopular, and the support of men, who, the necessity for their 
services being at an end, might be regarded as drones in the com- 
munity ? A memorial to Congress in December, from the officers 
in camp, on behalf of the army, represented the hardships of the 
case, and proposed that a specific sum should be granted them for 
the money actually due, and as a commutation for half pay. The 
memorial gave rise to animated and long discussions in Congress. 
Some members were for admitting the claims as founded on 
engagements entered into by the nation; others were for referring 
them to the respective States of the claimants. On the loth of 
March, 1783, an anonymous paper was circulated through the 
camp, calling a meeting at eleven o'clock the next day, of the 
general and field-officers, of an officer from each company, and a 
delegate from the medical staff, to consider a letter just received 
from their representatives in Philadelphia, and what measures, if 
any, should be adopted to obtain that redress of grievances which 
they seemed to have solicited in vain. On the following morning 
an anonymous address (written, as he subsequently avowed, by 
Gen. John Armstrong), to the the officers of the army was privately 
put into circulation. It professed to be from a fellow-soldier, who 
had shared in their toils and mingled in their dangers, and who 
till very lately had believed in the justice of his country. "After 
a pursuit of seven long years," observed he, " the object for which 
we set out is at length brought within our reach. Your suffering 
courage has conducted the United States of America through a 
doubtful and bloody war ; it has placed her in the chair of inde- 
pendency, and peace returns to bless — whom? a country willing to 
redress your wrongs, cherish your worth, and reward your ser- 
vices? a country courting your return to private life, with 



522 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

tears of gratitude and smiles of admiration ? Or is it rather a 
country that tramples upon your rights, disdains your cries, and 
insults your distress? Have you not more than once suggested 
your wishes, and made known your wants to Congress — wants and 
wishes which gratitude and policy should have anticipated, rather 
than evaded? How have you been answered? Let the letter, 
which you are called to consider to-morrow, make reply. If you 
have sense enough to discover, and spirits sufficient to oppose 
tyranny, under whatever garb it may assume, whether it be the 
plain coat of republicanism, or the splendid robe of royalty; if 
you have yet learned to discriminate between a people and cause, 
between men and principles; awake, attend to your situation, and 
redress yourselves ! If the present moment be lost, every future 
effort is in vain; and your threats then will be as empty as your 
entreaties now." 

This dangerous appeal called for the full exercise of Washing- 
ton's characteristic firmness, caution and discrimination. With a 
view to counteract its effects, he requested a like meeting of officers 
on the 1 5th instant, to hear the report of the committee deputed to 
Congress. "After mature deliberation," added he, "they will 
devise what further measures ought to be adopted as most 
rational and best calculated to obtain the just and important object 
in view." On Saturday, the 15th of March, the meeting took 
place. Washington had previously sent for the officers, one by 
one, in private, and enlarged on the loss of character to the whole 
army, that would result from intemperate resolutions. Gen, Gates 
was called to the chair. Washington rose and apologized for 
appearing -there, which he had not intended to do when he issued 
the order directing the assemblage. The diligence, however, which 
had been used in circulating anonymous writings, rendered it neces- 
sary he should give his sentiments to the army. •' If my conduct 
heretofore," said he, "has not evinced to you, that I have been a 
faithful friend to the army, my declaration of it at this time would 
be equally unavailing and improper. But as I was among the 
first who embarked in the cause of our common country; as I have 
never left your side one moment, but when called from you on 
public duty; as I have been the constant companion and witness 
of your distresses, and not among the last to feel and acknowledge 
your merits; as I have ever considered my own military reputation 
as inseparably connected with that of the army ; as my heart has 
ever expanded with joy when I have heard its praises, and my 
indignation has arisen when the mouth of detraction has been 
opened against it; it can scarcely be supposed at this last stage of 
the war that I am indifferent to its interests. For myself, a recol- 
lection of the cheerful assistance and prompt obedience I have 
experienced from you under every vicissitude of fortune, and the 
sincere affection I feel for an army I have so long had the honor 
to command, will oblige me to declare in this pubhc and solemn 
manner, that for the attainment of complete justice for all your 
toils and dangers, and the gratification of every wish, so far as 
may be done consistently with the great duty I owe my country and 



1^83.] " LAST STAGE OF PERFECTIONr 523 

those powers we are bound to respect, you may fully command my 
services to the utmost extent of my abUities. While I give you these 
assurances, let me entreat you, gentlemen, not to take any meas- 
ures which, viewed in the calm light of reason, will lessen the dig- 
nity and sully the glory you have hitherto maintained; — let me 
request you to rely on the plighted faith of your country, and place 
a full confidence in the purity of the intentions of Congress; that, 
previous to your dissolution as an army, they will cause all your 
accounts to be fairly liquidated, as directed in the resolutions 
which were published to you two days ago; and that they will adopt 
the most effectual measures in their power to render ample justice 
to you for your faithful and meritorious services. And let me con- 
jure you, in the name of our common country, as you value your 
own sacred honor, as you respect the rights of humanity, and as 
you regard the military and national character of America, to 
express your utmost horror and detestation of the man who wishes, 
under specious pretences, to overturn the liberties of our country; 
and who wickedly attempts to open the flood-gates of civil discord, 
and deluge our rising empire in blood. Give one more distin- 
guished proof of unexampled patriotism and patient virtue; and 
you will, by the dignity of your conduct, afford occasion for pos- 
terity to say, when speaking of the glorious example you have 
exhibited to mankind; — ' Had this day been wanting, the world 
had never seen the last stage of perfection to which human 
nature is capable of attaining' " Major Shaw, who was present, 
and from whose memoir we note this scene, relates that Washing- 
ton, after concluding the address, read the first paragraph of a let- 
ter from the Hon. Joseph Jones, a member of Congress, made a 
short pause, took out his spectacles, and begged the indulgence of 
his audience while he put them on, observing at the same time 
that he had grown gray in their service, and now fotmd himself 
grooving blind. "There was something," adds Shaw, "so nat- 
ural, so unaffected, in this appeal, as rendered it superior to the 
most studied oratory; it forced its way to the heart, and you might 
see sensibility moisten every eye. Happy for America, that she 
has a patriot army, and equally so that Washington is its leader. 
I rejoice in the opportunity I have had of seeing this great man in 
a variety of situations; — calm and intrepid when the battle raged; 
patient and persevering under the pressure of misfortune, moder- 
ate and possessing himself in the full career of victory. Great as 
these qualifications deservedly render him, he never appeared to 
me more truly so than at the assembly we have been speaking of. 
On other occasions he has been supported by the exertions of an 
army and the countenance of his friends; but on this he stood single 
and alone. There was no saying where the passions of an army 
which were not a little inflamed, might lead; but it was generally 
allowed that further forbearance was dangerous, and moderation 
had ceased to be a virtue. Under these circumstances he appeared, 
not at the head of his troops, but, as it were, in opposition to them; 
and for a dreadful moment the interests of the army and its gen- 
eral seemed to be in competition ! He spoke, — every doubt was 



524 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

dispelled, and the tide of patriotism rolled again in its wonted 
course. Illustrious man ! What he says of the army may with 
equal justice be applied to his own character : — ' Had this day 

BEEN WANTING, THE WORLD HAD NEVER SEEN THE LAST STAGE OF 
PERFECTION TO WHICH HUMAN NATURE IS CAPABLE OF ATTAIN- 
ING.* " 

The moment Washington retired from the assemblage, a reeolu- 
tion was moved by the warm-hearted Knox, seconded by Gen. 
Putnam, and passed unanimously, assuring him that the officers 
reciprocated his affectionate expressions with the greatest sincerity 
of which the human heart is capable. Then followed resolutions, 
declaring that no circumstances of distress or danger should 
induce a conduct calculated to sully the reputation and glory 
acquired at the price of their blood and eight years' faithful ser- 
vices; that they continued to have an unshaken confidence in the 
justice of Congress and their country; and that the commander- 
in-chief should be requested to write to the President of Congress, 
earnestly entreating a speedy decision on the late address forwarded 
by a committee of the army. A letter was accordingly written by 
Washington, breathing that generous, yet w'ell-tempered spirit, 
with which he ever pleaded the cause of the army. "The result 
of the proceedings of the grand convention of officers," said he, 
"which I have the honor of enclosing to your Excellency for the 
inspection of Congress, will, I flatter myself, be considered as the 
last glorious proof of patriotism which could have been given by 
men who aspired to the distinction of a patriot army, and will not 
only confirm their claim to the justice, but will increase their title to 
the gratitude, of their country. A country, rescued by their arms 
from impending ruin, will never leave unpaid the debt of grati- 
tude." The subject was again taken up in Congress, nine States 
concurred in a resolution commuting the half pay into a sum equal 
to five years' whole pay ; and the whole matter, at one moment so 
fraught with danger to the republic, through the temperate wisdom 
of Washington, was happily adjusted. 

At length arrived the wished-for news of peace. A general 
treaty had been signed at Paris on the 20th of January. An armed 
vessel, the Triumph, belonging to the Count d'Estaing's squadron, 
arrived at Philadelphia from Cadiz, on the 23d of March, bringing 
a letter from the Marquis de Lafayette, to the President of Con- 
gress, communicating the intelligence. In a few days Sir Guy 
Carleton informed Washington by letter, that he was ordered to 
proclaim a cessation of hostilities by sea and land. A similar 
proclamation issued by Congress, was received by Washington on 
the 17th of April. The troops expected that a speedy discharge 
must be the consequence of the proclamation. Most of them could 
not distinguish between a proclamation of a cessation of hostilities and 
a definitive declaration of peace, and might consider any further claim 
on their nailitary services an act of injustice. It was becoming diffi- 
cult to enforce the discipline necessary to the coherence of an 
army. Washington earnestly entreated a prompt determination 
on the part of Congress, as to what was to be the period of the 



1783.] CESSATION OF HOSTILITIES PROCLAIMED. 525 

services of these men, and how he was to act respecting their dis- 
charge. He urged that, in discharging those who had been 
engaged "for the war," the non-commissioned officers and sol- 
diers should be allowed to take with them, as their own property, 
and as a gratuity, their arms and accoutrements. "This, at a 
comparatively small expense, would be deemed an honorable tes- 
timonial from Congress of the regard they bear to these distin- 
guished worthies, and the sense they had of their suffering virtues 
and services. These constant companions of their toils, preserved 
with sacred attention, would be handed down from the present 
possessors to their children, as honorary badges of bravery and 
military merit; and would probably be brought forth on some 
future occasion, with pride and exultation, to be improved with 
the same miUtary ardor and emulation in the hands of posterity, 
as they have been used by their forefathers in the present estab- 
lishment and foundation of our national independence and glory." 
He notified in general orders, that the cessation of hostihties should 
be proclaimed at noon on the following day, and read in the even- 
ing at the head of every regiment and corps of the army, " after 
which, adds he, " the chaplains with the several brigades will ren- 
der thanks to Almighty God for all his mercies, particularly for his 
overruling the wrath of man to his own glory, and causing the 
rage of war to cease among the nations." Having noticed that 
this auspicious day, the 19th of April, completed the eighth year 
of the war, and was the anniversary of the eventful conflict at 
Lexington, he went on in general orders, to impress upon the army 
a proper idea of the dignified part they were called upon to act. 
"The generous task for which we first flew to arms being accom- 
plished; the liberties of our country being fully acknowledged, and 
firmly secured, and the characters of those who have persevered 
through every extremity of hardship, suffering, and danger, being 
immortalized by the illustrious appellation of the patriot army, noth- 
ing now remains, but for the actors of this mighty scene to pre- 
serve a perfect, unvarying consistency of character, through the 
very last act, to close the drama with applause, and to retire from 
the military theatre with the same approbation of angels and men 
which has crowned all their former virtuous actions." 

The letter which he had written to the president produced a 
resolution in Congress, that the service of the men engaged in the 
war did not expire until the ratification of the definitive articles of 
peace; but that the commander-in-chief might grant furloughs to 
such as he thought proper, and that they should be allowed to take 
their arms with them. Washington availed himself freely of this 
permission : furloughs were granted without stint; the men set out 
singly or in small parties for their rustic homes, and the danger and 
inconvenience were avoided of disbanding large masses at a time, 
of unpaid soldiery. Now and then were to be seen three or four 
in a group, bound probably to the same neighborhood, beguihng 
the way with camp jokes and camp stories. The war-worn soldier 
was always kindly received at the farm-house along the road, 
w-here he might shoulder his gun and fight over his battles. The 



526 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

men thus dismissed on furlough were never called upon to rejoin 
the army. Once at home, they sank into domestic life ; their weap- 
ons were hung up over their fire-places; military trophies of the 
Revolution to be prized by future generations. 

Sir Guy Carleton was making preparations for the evacuation of 
the City of New York. As early as the 27th of April a fleet had 
sailed for different parts of Nova Scotia, carrying off about seven" 
thousand persons, with all their effects. A great part of these 
were troops, but many were royalists and refugees, exiled by the 
laws of the United States. They looked forward with a dreary eye to 
their voyage, "bound," as one of them said, "to a country where there 
were nine months of Avinter every year." On the 6th of May a 
personal conference took place between Washington and Sir Guy 
at Orangetown, about the transfer of posts in the United States, 
held by the British troops, and the delivery of all property stipu- 
lated by the treaty to be given up to the Americans. On the 8th 
of May, Egbert Benson, William S. Smith, and Daniel Parker, 
were commissioned by Congress to inspect and superintend at 
New York the embarkation of persons and property, in fulfillment 
of the seventh article of the provisional treaty. Eight years of 
dangers and hardships, shared in common and nobly sustained, 
by the officers in the patriot camp, had welded their hearts 
together, and made it hard to rend them asunder. Prompted by 
such feelings, Gen. Knox, ever noted for generous impulses, sug- 
gested, as a mode of perpetuating the friendships thus formed, 
and keeping alive the brotherhood of the camp, the foiTnation of a 
society composed of the officers of the army. Meetings were held, 
at which the Baron Steuben, as senior officer, presided. A plan 
i^as drafted by a committee composed of Gens. Knox, Hand, and 
Huntingdon, and Captain Shaw; and the society was organized at 
a meeting held on the 13th of May, at the Baron's quarters in the 
old Verplanck House, near Fishkill. In memory of the illustrious 
Roman, Lucius Ouintius Cincinnatus, who retired from war to the 
peaceful duties of the citizen, it Avas to be called "The Society of 
the Cincinnati." The objects proposed by it were to preserve 
inviolate the rights and liberties for which they had contended; to 
promote and cherish national honor and union between the States; 
to maintain brotherly kindness towards each other, and extend 
relief to such officers and their families as might stand in need of 
it. In order to obtain funds for the purpose, each officer was to 
contribute one month's pay, the interest only to be appropriated to 
the relief of the unfortunate. The society was to have an insignia 
called "The Order of the Cincinnati." It Avas to be a golden 
American eagle, bearing on its breast emblematical devices; this 
was to be suspended by a deep-blue ribbon tAvo inches Avide, 
edged with Avhite; significative of the union of America with France. 
Washington Avas chosen unanimously to officiate as president of it, 
until the first general meeting, to be held in Philadelphia, May 
1st, 1784. He continued to preside over it until his death, and it 
became a rallying place for old comrades in arms. 

On the 8th of June, Washington addressed a letter to the gov- 



1783.] WASHINGTON TO THE GOVERNORS. 527 

ernors of the several States on the subject of the dissolution of 
the army. The opinion of it breathes that aspiration after the 
serene quiet of private life, which had been hi3 dream of happi- 
ness throughout the storms and trials of his anxious career, but 
the full fruition of which he was never to realize. "The great 
object," said he, "for which I had the honor to hold an appoint- 
ment in the service of my country being accomplished, I am now- 
preparing to return to that domestic retirement which, it is well 
known, 1 left with the greatest reluctance ; a retirement for which 
I have never ceased to sigh, through a long and painful absence, 
and in which (remote from the noise and trouble of the world) 
I meditate to pass the remainder of life in a state of undis- 
turbed repose." His letter then discribed the enviable condition 
of the citizens of America, " Sole lords and proprietors of a vast 
tract of continent, comprehending all the various soils and cli- 
mates of the world, and abounding with all the necessaries and con- 
veniences of hfe; and acknowledged possessors of absolute free- 
dom and independence." "This is the time," said he, *'of their 
political probation ; this is the moment when the eyes of the 
whole world are turned upon them; this is the moment to estab- 
lish or ruin their national character forever. This is the favor- 
able moment to give such a tone to the federal government, as 
will enable it to answer the ends of its institution; or this may be 
the moment for relaxing the powers of the Union, annihilating 
the cement of the confederation, and exposing us to become the 
sport of European politics, which may play one State against another 
to prevent their growing importance, and to serve their own 
interested purposes." He then proceeded ably and eloquently 
to discuss what he considered the four things essential to the 
well-being, and even the existence of the United States as an 
independent power. First. An indissoluble union of the States 
under one federal head, and a perfect acquiescence of the several 
States, in the full exercise of the prerogative vested in such a 
head by the constitution. Second. A sacred regard to public 
justice in discharging debts and fulfilling contracts made by Con- 
gress, for the purpose of carrying on the war. Third. The adopy- 
tion of a proper peace establishment in which care should be 
taken to place the militia throughout the Union on a regular, 
uniform and efficient footing. "The militia of this country," 
said he, " must be considered as the palladium of our security, 
and the first effectual resort in case of hostility. It is essential, 
therefore, that the same system should pervade the whole." 
Fourth. A disposition among the people of the United States to 
forget local prejudices and policies; to make mutual concessions, 
and to sacrifice individual advantages to the interests of the com- 
munity. These four things Washington pronounced the pillars on 
which the glorious character must be supported. " Liberty is the 
basis; and whoever would dare to sap the foundation, or overturn 
the structure, under whatever specious pretext he may attempt it, 
will merit the bitterest execration and the severest punishment 
which can be inflicted by his injured country." We forbear to go 



528 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

into the ample and admirable reasoning with which he expatiates 
on these heads, and above all, enforces the sacred inviolability of 
the Union; they have become familiar with every American mind, 
and ought to govern every American heart. We cannot omit 
the affecting close of this letter: — "I have thus freely declared 
what I wished to make known, before I surrendered up my public 
trust to those who committed it to me. The task is now accom- 
plished. I now bid adieu to your Excellency, as the chief magis- 
trate of your State, at the same time I bid a last farewell to the 
cares of office and all the employments of public life. It remains, 
then, to be my final and only request, that your Excellency will 
communicate these sentiments to your legislature at their next 
meeting, and that they may be considered the legacy of one who 
has ardently wished, on all occasions, to be useful to his country, 
and who, even in the shade of retirement, will not fail to implore 
the divine benediction on it. I now make it my earnest prayer, 
that God would have you, and the State over which you preside, 
in his holy protection; that he would incline the hearts of the citi- 
zens to cultivate a spirit of subordination and obedience to govern- 
ment, to entertain a brotherly affection and love for one another, 
for their fellow-citizens of the United States at large, and particu- 
larly for brethren who have served in the field; and finally, that 
He would most graciously be pleased to dispose us all to do justice, 
to love mercy, and to demean ourselves with that charity, humil- 
ity, and pacific temper of mind, which are the characteristics of 
the Divine Author of our blessed religion, and without whose 
example in those things we can never hope to be a happy nation." 
Washington resolved to while away part of the time that must 
intervene before the arrival of the definitive treaty, by making a 
tour to the northern and western parts of the State, and visiting the 
places which had been the theatre of important military transac- 
tions, and to facilitate as far as in his power the operations which 
would be necessary for occupying, as soon as evacuated by Brit- 
ish troops, the posts ceded by the treaty of peace. Gov. Clinton 
accompanied him on the expedition. They set out by water from 
Newburg, ascended the Hudson to Albany, visited Saratoga and 
the scene of Burgoyne's surrender, embarked on Lake George, 
where light boats had been provided for them, traversed that 
beautiful lake so full of historic interest, proceeded to Ticonderoga 
and Crown Point ; and after reconnoitring those eventful posts, 
returned to Schenectady, whence they proceeded up the valley of 
the Mohawk River, "to have a view," writes Washington, "of 
that tract of country which is so much celebrated for the fertility 
of its soil and the beauty of its situation." Having reached Fort 
Schuyler, formerly Fort Stanwix, they crossed over to Wood 
Creek, which empties into Oneida Lake, and affords the water 
communication with Ontario. They then traversed the country to 
the head of the eastern branch of the Susquehanna, and viewed 
Lake Otsego and the portage between that lake and the Mohawk 
River. Washington returned to headquarters at Newburg on the 
5th of August, after a tour of at least seven hundred and fifty 



1783.] WASHINGTON' S FAREWEl.L TO THE ARMY, 529 

miles, performed in nineteen days, and for the most part on horse- 
back. In a letter to the Chevalier de Chastellux, written two or 
three months afterwards, and giving a sketch of his tour through 
what was, as yet, an unstudied wilderness, he writes: "Prompted 
by these actual observations, I could not help taking a more 
extensive view of the vast inland navigation of these United 
States from maps and the information of others ; and could not 
but be struck with the immense extent and importance of it, and 
with the goodness of that Providence which has dealt its favors to 
us with so profuse a hand; would to God, we may have wisdom 
enough to improve them. I shall not rest contented till I have 
explored the western country, and traversed those lines, or a great 
part of them, which have given bounds to a new empire." The 
vast advantages of internal communication between the Hudson 
and the great lakes, which dawned upon Washington's mind in 
the course of his tour, have since been reahzed in that grand artery 
of national wealth, the Erie Canal. 

By a proclamation of Congress, dated i8th of October, all offi- 
cers and soldiers absent on furlough were discharged from further 
service ; and all others who had engaged to serve during the war, 
were to be discharged from and after the 3d of November. A small 
force only, composed of those who had enhsted for a definite time, 
were to be retained in service until the peace establishment should 
be organized. In general orders of November 2d, Washington, 
after adverting to this proclamation, adds: "It only remains for 
the commander-in-chief to address himself once more, and that 
for the last time, to the armies of the United States, however widely 
dispersed the individuals who compose them may be, and to bid 
them an afifectionate and a long farewell." He then goes on to 
make them one of those paternal address which so Eminently char- 
acterize his relationship with his army, so different from that of any 
other commander. He takes a brief view of the glorious struggle 
from which they had just emerged ; the unpromising circumstances 
under which they had undertaken it, and the signal interposition 
of Providence in behalf of their feeble condition ; the unparalleled 
perseverance of the American armies for eight long years, through 
almost every possible suffering and discouragement ; a persever- 
ance which he justly pronounces to be little short of a standing 
miracle. Adverting then to the enlarged prospects of happiness 
opened by the confirmation of national independence and sover- 
eignty, and the ample and profitable employments held out in a 
Republic so happily circumstanced, he exhorts them to maintain 
the strongest attachment to the union, and to carry with them 
into civil society the most conciliatory dispositions ; proving them- 
selves not less virtuous and useful as citizens, than they had been 
victorious as soldiers ; feeling assured that the private virtues of 
economy, prudence, and industry would not be less amiable in 
civil life, than the more splendid qualities of valor, perseverance, 
and enterprise were in the field. "To the various branches of the 
army the General takes this last and solemn opportunity of profes- 
sing his invariable attachment and friendship. He wishes more 



530 LIFE OF WASHING TON. 

than bare professions were in his power; that he was really able 
to be useful to them all in future life. He can only offer in their 
behalf his recommendations to their grateful country, and his 
prayers to the God of armies. May anjple justice be done then 
here, and may the choicest of Heaven's favors, both here and 
hereafter, attend those who, under the Divine auspices, have 
secured innumerable blessings for others. With these wishes, and 
this benediction, the commander-in-chief is about to retire from 
service. The curtain of separation will soon be drawn, and the 
military scene to him will be closed forever." 

There was a straightforward simplicity in Washington's ad- 
dresses to his army ; they were so void of tumid phrases or rhetori- 
cal embelhshments; the counsels given in them were so sound and 
practicable ; the feelings expressed in them so kind and benevo- 
lent; and so perfectly in accordance with his character and con- 
duct, that they always had an irresistible effect on the rudest 
and roughest hearts. A person who was present at the breaking 
up of the army, and whom we have had frequent occasion to cite, 
olDserves, on the conduct of the troops, "The advice of their be- 
loved commander-in-chief, and the resolves of Congress to pay 
and compensate them in such manner as the ability of the United 
States would peiTnit, operated to keep them quiet and prevent 
tumult, but no description would be adequate to the painful cir- 
cumstances of the parting scene." 

Sir Guy Carleton had given notice to Washington of the time he 
supposed the different posts would be vacated, that the Americans 
might be prepared to take possession of them. On the 21st the 
British troops were drawn in from the oft-disputed post of King's 
Bridge and from M'Gowan's Pass, also from the various posts on 
the eastern part of Long Island. Paulus Hook was relinqui:hed 
on the following day, and the afternoon of the 25th of November 
was appointed by Sir Guy for the evacuation of the city and the 
opposite village of Brooklyn. Washington, in the meantime, had 
taken his station at Harlem, accompanied by Gov. Clinton, who, 
in virtue of his office, was to take charge of the city. On the 
morning of the 25th the American troops, composed of dragoons, 
light infantry and artillery, moved from Harlem to the Bowery at 
the upper part of the city. There they remained until the troops 
in that quarter were withdrawn, when they marched into the city 
and took possession, the British embarking from the lower parts. 
A formal entry then took place of the military and civil authorities. 
General Washington and Gov. Chnton, with their suites, on horse- 
back, led the procession, escorted by a troop of Westchester cav- 
alry. Then came the lieutenant-governor and members of the 
council, Gen. Knox and the officers of the army, the speaker of 
the Assembly, and a large number of citizens on horseback and on 
foot. An American lady, who was at that time very young, and 
had resided during the latter part of the war in the city, has given 
us an account of the striking contrast between the American and 
British troops. " We had been accustomed for a long time," said 
she, "to military display in all the finish and finery of garrison 



ir33.] WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL. 531 

life ; the troops just leaving us were as if equipped for show, and 
with their scarlet uniforms and burnished arms, made a brilliant 
display; the troops that marched in, on the contrary, were ill-tlad 
and weather-beaten, and made a forlorn appearance; but then 
they were our troops, and as I looked at them, and thought upon 
all they had done and suffered for us, my heart and my eyes were 
full, and I admired and gloried in them the more, because they 
were weather-beaten and forlorn." The city was now a scene of 
public festivity and rejoicing. The governor gave banquets to the 
French ambassador, the commander-in-chief, the military and civil 
officers, and a large number of the most eminent citizens, and at 
night the public were entertained by splendid fireworks. In the 
course of a few days Washington prepared to depart for Annapo- 
lis, where Congress was assembhng, with the intention of asking 
leave to resign his command. A barge was in waiting about noon 
on the 4th of December at Whitehall ferry, to convey him across 
the Hudson to Paulus Hook. The principal officers of the army 
assembled at Fraunces' Tavern in the neighborhood of the ferry, 
to take a final leave of him. On entering the room, and finding 
himself surrounded by his old companions in arms, who had shared 
with him so many scenes of hardship, difficulty, and danger, his 
agitated feelings overcame his usual self-command. FiUing a glass 
of wine, and turning upon them his benignant but saddened coun- 
tenance, "With a heart full of love and gratitude," said he, "I 
now take leave of you, most devoutly wishing that your latter days 
may be as prosperous and happy as your former ones have been 
glorious and honorable. I cannot come to each of you to take my 
leave, but shall be obhged if each of you will come and take me 
by the hand." Gen. Knox, who was the nearest, was the first to 
advance. Washington, affected even to tears, grasped his hand 
and gave him a brother's embrace. In the same affectionate man- 
ner he took leave severally of the rest. Not a word was spoken. 
The deep feehng and manly tenderness of these veterans in the 
parting moment could find no utterance in words. Silent and sol- 
emn they followed their loved commander as he left the room, 
passed through a corps of light infantry, and proceeded on foot to 
Whitehall ferry. Having entered the barge, he turned to them, 
took off his hat and waived a silent adieu. 

On his way to Annapolis, Washington stopped for a few days at 
Philadelphia, where with his usual exactness in matters of business, 
he adjusted with the Comptroller of the Treasury his accounts from 
the commencement of the war down to the 13th of the actual 
month of December. These were all in his own handwriting, and 
kept in the cleanest and most accurate manner, each entry being 
accompanied by a statement of the occasion and object of the 
charge. The gross amount was about fourteen thousand five hun- 
dred pounds sterling ; in which were included moneys expended 
for secret intelligence and service, and in various incidental 
charges. All this, it must be noted, was an account of money 
actually expended in the progress of the war; not for arrearage of 
pay ; for it will be recollected Washington accepted no pay. In- 



532 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

deed, on the final adjustment of his accounts, he found himself a 
considerable loser, having frequently, in a hurry of business, 
neglected to credit himself with sums drawn from his private purse 
in moments of exigency. The schedule of his public account 
furnishes not the least among the many noble and impressive les- 
sons taught by his character and example. It stands a touchstone 
of honesty in office, and a lasting rebuke on the lavish expenditure 
of the public money, too often heedlessly, if not wilfully, indulged 
by military commanders. 

In passing througli New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Maryland, 
the scenes of his anxious and precarious campaigns, Washington 
was everywhere hailed with enthusiasm by the people, and greeted 
with addresses by legislative assemblies, and learned and religious 
institutions. He accepted them all with the modesty inherent in 
his nature ; little thinking that this present popularity was but the 
early outbreaking of a fame, that was to go on widening and deep- 
ening from generation to generation, and extending over the whole 
civilized world. At twelve o'clock on the 23d of December, 1783, 
the gallery, and a great part of the floor of the Hall of Congress, were 
filled with ladies, with public functionaries of the State, and with gen- 
eral officers. The members of Congress were seated and covered, as 
representatives of the sovereignty of the Union. The gentlemen 
present as spectators were standing and uncovered. Washington 
entered, conducted by the secretary of Congress, and took his seat 
in a chair appointed for him. After a brief pause the president 
(Gen. Mifflin) informed him, that "the United States in Congress 
assembled, were prepared to receive his communication." Wash- 
ington then rose, and in a dignified and impressive manner, dehv- 
ered a short address. "The great events," said he, "on which 
my resignation depended, having at length taken place, I now 
have the honor of offering my sincere congratulations to Congress, 
and of presenting myself before them, to surrender into their hands 
the trust committed to me, and to claim the indulgence of retiring 
from the service of my conntry. I consider it an indispensable 
duty to close this last solemn act of my official life, by commend- 
ing the interests of our dearest country to the protection of Al- 
mighty God ; and those who have the superintendence of them, to 
his holy keeping. Having now finished the work assigned me, I 
retire from the great theatre of action; and bidding an affectionate 
farewell to this august body, under whose orders I have long acted, 
I here offer my commission, and take my leave of all the employ- 
ments of public life." Having delivered his commission into the 
hands of the president, the latter, in reply to his address, bore tes- 
timony to the patriotism with which he had answered to the call of 
his country, and defended its invaded rights before it had formed 
alliances, and while it was without funds or a government to sup- 
port him ; to the wisdom and fortitude with which he had con- 
ducted the great military contest, invariably regarding the rights 
of the civil power, through all disasters and changes. "You re- 
tire," added he, "from the theatre of action with the blessings of 
your fellow-citizens; but the glory of your virtues will not ter- 



1783.] A SOLDIER'S REPOSE. 533 

minate with your military command : it will continue to animate 
remotest ages." The very next morning Washington left Annapo- 
lis, and hastened to his beloved Mount Vernon, where he arrived 
the same day, on Christmas-eve, in a frame of mind suited to enjoy 
the sacred and genial festival. "The scene is at last closed," said 
he in a letter to Gov. CHnton ; "I feel myself eased of a load of 
public care. I hope to spend the remainder of my days in culti- 
vating the affections of good men, and in the practice of the do- 
mestic virtues." 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

A soldier's repose. 

For some time after his return to Mount Vernon, Washington 
M'as in a manner locked up by the ice and snow of an uncommonly 
rigorous winter, so that social intercourse was interrupted, and he 
could not even pay a visit of duty and affection to his aged mother 
at Fredericksburg. But it was enough for him at present that he 
was at length at home at Mount Vernon. Yet the habitudes of the 
camp still haunted him; he could hardly realize that he was free 
from military duties; on waking in the morning he almost 
expected to hear the drum going its stirring rounds and beating 
the reveille. "I feel now," wrote he to Gen. Howe, " as I con- 
ceive a weary traveller must do, who, after treading many a weary 
step, with a heavy burthen on his shoulders, is eased of the latter, 
and from his house-top is looking back, and tracing, with an eager 
eye, the meanders by which he escaped the quicksands and mires 
which lay in his way; and into which none but the all-powerful 
Guide and Dispenser of human events could have prevented his 
falling." And in a letter to Lafayette he writes: " Free from the 
bustle of a camp and the busy scenes of public life, I am solacing 
myself with those tranquil enjoyments, of which the soldier, who is 
ever in pursuit of fame ; the statesman, whose watchful days and 
sleepless nights are spent in devising schemes to promote the wel- 
fare of his own, perhaps the ruin of other countries — as if this globe 
was insufficient for us all; and the courtier, who is always watch- 
ing the countenance of his prince in hopes of catching a gracious 
smile, can have very Httle conception. I have not only retired 
from all public employments, but I am retiring within myself, and 
shall be able to view the solitary walk, and tread the paths of 
private life with heartfelt satisfaction. Envious of none, I am de- 
termined to be pleased with all ; and this, my dear friend, being 
the order of my march, I will move gently down the stream of life 
until I sleep with my fathers." And subsequently, in a letter to 
the Marchioness de Lafayette : " I am now enjoying domestic ease 
under the shadow of my own vine and my own fig-tree, in a small 
villa, with the implements of husbandry and lambkins about me. 
Come, then, let me entreat you, and call my cottage your own; for 



534 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

your doors do not open to you with more readiness than mine 
would. You will see the plain manner in which we live, and meet 
with rustic civility; and you shall taste the simplicity of rural life. 
It will diversify the scene, and may give you a higher relish for the 
gayeties of the court when you return to Versailles." 

During the winter storms, he anticipates the time when the 
return of the sun will enable him to welcome his friends and com- 
panions in arms to partake of his hospitality; and lays down his 
unpretending plan of receiving the curious visitors who are likely 
to throng in upon him. " My manner of living," writes he to a 
friend, " is plain, and I do not mean to be put out of it. A glass 
of wine and a bit of mutton are always ready ; and such as will be 
content to partake of them, are always welcome. Those who ex- 
pect more will be disappointed." Some degree of economy was 
necessary, for his financial concerns had suffered, and the pro- 
ducts of his estate had fallen off, during his long absence. His 
old friend, Dr. Craik, made application to Washington in behalf 
of a person who purposed to write his memoirs. He replied, that 
any memoir of his life distinct and unconnected with the general 
history of the war, would rather hurt his feelings than flatter his 
pride, while he could not furnish the papers and information con- 
nected with it without subjecting himself to the imputation of 
vanity, adding: " I had rather leave it to posterity to think and 
say what they please of me, than, by any act of mine, to have van- 
ity or ostentation imputed to me." As spring advanced, Mount 
Vernon began to attract numerous visitors. They were received 
in the frank, unpretending style Washington had determined upon. 
It was truly edifying to behold how easily and contentedly he sub- 
sided from the authoritative commander-in-chief of armies, into the 
quiet country gentleman. There was nothing awkward or violent 
in the transition. He seemed to be in his natural element. Mrs. 
Washington, too, who had presided with quiet dignity at head- 
quarters, and cheered the wintry gloom of Valley Forge with her 
presence, presided with equal amenity and grace at the simple 
board of Mount Vernon. She had a cheerful good sense that 
always made her an agreeable companion, and was an excellent 
manager. She has been remarked for an inveterate habit of knit- 
ting. It had been acquired, or at least fostered, in the winter en- 
campments of the Revolution, where she used to set an example to 
her lady visitors, by diligently plying her needles knitting stock- 
ings for the poor destitute soldiery. 

Washington had never virtually ceased to be the agriculturist. 
Throughout all his campaign he had kept himself informed of the 
course of rural affairs at Mount Vernon. By means of maps on 
which every field was laid down and numbered, he was enabled to 
give directions for their several cultivation, and receive accounts 
of their several crops. No hurry of affairs prevented a correspond- 
ence with his overseer or agent, and he exacted weekly reports. 
Thus his rural were interwoven with his military cares ; the agri- 
culturist was mingled with the soldier ; and those strong sympa- 
thies with the honest cultivators of the soil, and that paternal care 



i874.] WASHINGTON'S WESTERN RIDE. 535 

of their interest to be noted throughout his miHtary career, may be 
ascribed, in a great measure, to the sweetening influences of Mount 
Vernon. Yet as spring returned, and he resumed his rides about 
the beautiful neighborhood of this haven of his hopes, he must have 
been mournfully sensible, now and then, of the changes which 
time and events had effected there. The Fairfaxes, the kind 
friends of his boyhood, and social companions of his riper years, 
were no longer at hand to share his pleasures and lighten his 
cares. There were no more hunting dinners at Belvoir. Old 
Lord Fairfax, the Nimrod of Greenway Court, Washington's early 
friend and patron, with whom he had first learned to follow the 
hounds, had Hved on in a green old age at his sylvan retreat in the 
beautiful valley of the Shenandoah ; popular with his neighbors 
and unmolested by the Whigs, although frank and open in his ad- 
herence to Great Britain. He had attained his ninety-second 
year, when tidings of the surrender of Yorktown wounded the 
national pride of the old cavalier to the quick, and snapped the 
attenuated thread of his existence. — Washington, in September, 
made a tour to the west of the Appalachian Mountains, to visit his 
lands on the Ohio and Kanawha Rivers. Dr. Craik, the compan- 
ion of his various campaigns, and who had accompanied him in 
1770 on a similar tour, was his fellow-traveller. This soldier-like 
tour, made in hardy miUtary style, with tent, pack-horses, and 
frugal supplies, took him once more among the scenes of his 
youthful expeditions when a land surveyor in the employ of Lord 
Fairfax; a leader of Virginia militia, or an aide-de-camp of the 
unfortunate Braddock. A veteran now in years, and a general 
renowned in arms, he soberly permitted his steed to pick his way 
across the mountains by the old military route, still called Brad- 
dock's Road, over which he had spurred in the days of youthful 
ardor. He proceeded no further west than the Monongahela; 
ascended that river, and then struck southward through the wild, 
unsettled regions of the Alleganies, until he came out into the 
Shenandoah Valley near Staunton. He returned to Mount Ver- 
non on the 4th of October; having, since the ist of September, 
travelled on horseback six hundred and eighty miles, for. a great 
part of the time in wild, mountainous country, where he was 
obliged to encamp at night. This, like his tour to the northern 
forts with Gov. Clinton, gave proof of his unfaihng vigor and 
activity. During all this tour he had carefully observed the course 
and chara(!ter of the streams flowing from the west into the Ohio, 
and the distance of their navigable parts from the head navigation 
of the rivers east of the mountains, with the nearest and best por- 
tage between them. For many years he had been convinced of 
the practicability of an easy and short communication between the 
Potomac and James Rivers, and the waters of the Ohio, and thence 
on to the great chain of lakes ; and of the vast advantages that would 
result therefrom to the States of Virginia and Maryland. The in- 
dustry of the western settlers had hitherto been checked by the 
want of outlets to their products. "But smooth the road," said 
he, " and make easy the way for them, and then see what an influx 



536 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

of articles will pour upon us ; how amazingly our exports will be in- 
creased by them, and how amply all shall be compensated for any 
trouble and expense we may encounter to effect it. " Such were 
some of the ideas ably and amply set forth by him in a letter to 
Benjamin Harrison, Governor of Virginia, who laid the letter 
before the State legislature. The favor with which it was received 
induced Washington to repair to Richmond on the 15th of Novem- 
ber. On the following morning a committee of five members of the 
House of Assembly, headed by Patrick Henry, waited on him in 
behalf of that body, to testify their reverence for his character and 
affection for his person, and their sense of the proofs given by him 
since his return to private life, that no change of situation could 
turn his thoughts from the welfare of his country. The suggestions 
of Washington in his letter to the governor, and his representations, 
during this visit to Richmond, gave the first impulse to the great 
system of internal improvement since pursued throughout the 
United States. At Richmond he was joined by the Marquis de 
Lafayette ; who had recently arrived from France, had visited 
Mount Vernon August 17th, and had since accompanied commis- 
sioners to Fort Schuyler, and been present at the formation of a 
treaty with the Indians ; after which he had made a tour of the 
Eastern States, "crowned everywhere," writes Washington, 
"with wreaths of love and respect." They returned together to 
Mount Vernon, where Lafayette again passed several days, a 
cherished inmate of the domestic circle. When his visit was 
ended, Washington, to defer the parting scene, accompanied him 
to Annapolis. On returning to Mount Vernon, he wrote a farewell 
letter to the marquis : "In the moment of our separation, upon the 
road as I have travelled, and every hour since, I have felt all that 
love, respect and attachment for you, with which length of years, 
close connection, and your merits have inspired me. I often asked 
myself, as our carriages separated, whether that was the last 
sight I ever should have of you ? And though I wished to answer 
no, my fears answered yes. I called to mind the days of my 
youth, and found they had long since fled to return no more ; that 
I was-now descending the hill I had been fifty-two years climbing, 
and that, though I was blessed with a good constitution, I was of a 
short-lived family, and might soon expect to be entombed in the 
mansion of my fathers." 

Washington's late tours into the interior of the Union had 
quickened ideas long existing in his mind on the subject of 
internal navigation. In a letter to Richard Henry Lee, recently 
chosen President of Congress, he urged it upon his attention; 
suggesting that the western waters should be explored, their navi- 
gable capabilities ascertained, and that a complete map should be 
made of the country; that in all grants of land by the United 
States, there should be a reserve made for special sale of all mines, 
mineral and salt springs; that a medium price should be adopted 
for the western lands sufficient to prevent monopoly, but not to dis- 
courage useful settlers. In the latter part of December he was at 
Annapolis, at the request of the Assembly of Virginia, to arrange 



1785.] MPRO VEMENTS A T MOUNT VERNON. 537 

matters with the Assembly of Maryland respecting the communi- 
cation between the Potomac and the western waters. Through his 
indefatigable exertions two companies were formed under the 
patronage of the governments of these States, for opening the nav- 
igation of the Potomac and James Rivers, and he was appointed 
president of both. By a unanimous vote of the assembly of Vir- 
ginia, fifty shares in ^he Potomac, and one hundred in the James 
River company, were appropriated for his benefit, to the end that, 
while the great works he had promoted would remain monuments 
of his glory, they might also be monuments of the gratitude of his 
country. He dechned to receive the proffered shares for his own 
benefit, and they were ultimately appropriated by him to institu- 
tions devoted to public education. Yet, though the love for his 
country would thus interfere with his love for his home, the dream 
of rural retirement at Mount Vernon still went on. " The more I 
am acquainted with agricultural affairs," he says, in a letter to a 
friend in England, " the better I am pleased with them; insomuch 
that I can nowhere find so much satisfaction as in those innocent 
and useful pursuits. While indulging these feelings, I am led to 
reflect, how much more delightful to an undebauched mind is the 
task of making improvements on the earth, than all the vainglory 
that can be acquired from ravaging it by the most uninterrupted 
career of conquest." At the opening of the year (1785) the entries 
in his diary show him diligently employed in preparations to im- 
prove his groves and shrubbery. On the loth of January he notes 
that the white thorn is full in berry. On the 20th he begins to clear 
the pine groves of undergrowth. In February he transplants ivy 
under the walls of the garden to which it still clings. In March he 
is planting hemlock trees, that most beautiful species of American 
evergreen, numbers of which had been brought hither from Occo- 
quan. In April he is sowing holly berries in drills, some adjoining 
a green-briar hedge on the north side of the garden gate; others in 
a semicircle on the lawn. Many of the holly bushes thus produced, 
are still flourishing about the place in full vigor. He had learnt 
the policy, not sufficiently adopted in our country, of clothing his 
ornamented grounds as much as possible with evergreens, which 
resist the rigors of our winter, and keep up a cheering verdure 
throughout the year. Of the trees fitted for shade in pasture land 
he notes the locust, maple, black mulberry, black walnut, black 
gum, dogwood and sassafras, none of which, he observes, materi- 
ally injure the grass beneath them. Is then for once a soldier's 
dream realized .-* Is he in perfect enjoyment of that seclusion from 
the world and its distractions, which he had so often pictured to 
himself amid the hardships and turmoils of the camp ? Alas, no ! 
The "post," that "herald of a noisy world," invades his quiet 
and loads his table with letters, until correspondence becomes an 
intolerable burthen. He looks in despair at the daily accumulat- 
ing mass of unanswered letters. "Many mistakenly think," writes 
he, "that lam retired to ease, and to that kind of tranquillity 
which would grow tiresome for want of employment; but at no 
period of my life, not in the eight years I served the public, have 



538 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

I been obliged to write so much myself, as I have done since my 
retirement." From much of this drudgery of the pen he was sub- 
sequently relieved by Mr. Tobias Lear, who acted as his private 
secretary, and at the same time took charge of the instruction of 
the two children of the late Mr. Parke Curtis, whom Washington 
had adopted. There was another tax imposed by his celebrity 
upon his time and patience. Applications w^re continually made 
to him to sit for his likeness. The following is his sportive reply to 
Mr. Francis Hopkinson, who applied in behalf of Mr. Pine : 
" 'In for a penny in for a pound,' is an old adage. I am so hack- 
neyed to the touches of the painters' pencil, that I am altogether 
at their beck, and sit ' like Patience on a monument,' while they 
are delineating the lines of my face. It is a proof among many 
others, of what habit and custom can accomplish. At first I was 
impatient at the request, and as restive under the operation, as a 
colt is under the saddle. The next time I submitted very reluctantly, 
but with less flouncing. Now no drayhorse moves more readily to 
his thill, than I do to the painter's chair." It was not long after 
this that M. Houdon, an artist of great merit, chosen by Mr. Jeff- 
erson and Dr. Franklin, arrived from Paris to make a study of 
Washington for a statue, for the Legislature of Virginia. He 
remained a fortnight at Mount Vernon, and having formed his 
model, took it with him to Paris, where he produced that excellent 
statue and likeness to be seen in the State House in Richmond, 
Virginia. 

We find in Washington's diary noted down with curious exact- 
ness, each day's labor and the share he took in it ; his frequent 
rides to the Mill Swamp; the Dogue Creek; the " Plantation of the 
Neck," and other places along the Potomac in quest of young 
elms, ash trees, white thorn, crab-apples, maples, mulberries, wil- 
lows and lilacs; the winding walks which he lays out, and the trees 
and shrubs which he plants along them. Now he sows acorns 
and buck-eye nuts brought by himself from the Monongahela; now 
he opens vistas through the Pine. Grove, commanding distant views 
through the woodlands; and now he twines round his columns 
scarlet honeysuckles, which his gardener tells him will blow all the 
summer. His care-worn spirit freshens up in these employments. 
With him Mount Vernon is a kind of idyl. The transient glow of 
poetical feehng which once visited his bosom, when in boyhood he 
rhymed beneath its groves, seems about to return once more; and 
we please ourselves with noting among the trees set out by him, a 
group of young horse-chestnuts from Westmoreland, his native 
county, the haunt of his schoolboy days; which had been sent to 
him by Col. Lee (Light Horse Harry), the son of his "Lowland 
Beauty." A diagram of the plan in which he had laid out his 
grounds, still remains among his papers at Mount Vernon; the 
places are marked on it for particular trees and shrubs. Some of 
those trees and shrubs are still to be found in the places thus 
assigned to them. In the present neglected state of Mount Ver- 
non, its walks are overgrown, and vegetation runs wild; but it is 
deeply interesdng stiil to find traces of these toils in which Wash- 



r;85.] A SILENT, THOUGHTFUL MAN. 539 

ton delighted, and to know that many of the trees which gave it 
its present umbrageous beauty were planted by his hand. The 
ornamental cultivation was confined to the grounds appertaining 
to what was called the mansion-house farm; but his estate included 
four other farms, all lying contiguous, and containing 3,260 acres; 
each farm having its bailiff or overseer, with a house for his 
accommodation, barns and outhouses for the produce, and cabins 
for the negroes. On a general map of the estate, drawn out by 
Washington himself, these farms were all laid down accurately 
and their several fields numbered; he knew the soil and local qual- 
ities of each, and regulated the culture of them accordingly. In 
addition to these five farms there were several hundred acres of 
fine woodland, so that the estate presented a beautiful diversity of 
land and water. In the stables near the mansion-house were the 
carriage and saddle horses, of which he was very choice; on the 
four fijrms there were 54 draught horses, 12 mules, 317 head of 
black cattle, 360 sheep, and a great number of swine, which last 
ran at large in the woods. He corresponded with the celebrated 
Arthur Young; from whom he obtained seeds of all kinds, im- 
proved ploughs, plans for laying out farm yards, and advice on 
various parts of rural economy. " Agriculture," writes he to him, 
"has ever been among the most favored of my amusements, 
though I have never possessed much skill in the art, and nine 
years' total inattention to it has added nothing to a knowledge, 
which is best understood from practice; but with the means you 
have been so obliging to furnish me, I shall return to it, though 
rather late in the day, with more alacrity than ever." His active 
day began some time before the dawn. Much of his correspond- 
ence was despatched before breakfast, which took place at half- 
past seven. After breakfast he mounted his horse, and rode out 
to different parts of his estate, to see that all was right at the out- 
posts, and every one at his duty. At half-past two he dined. If 
there was no company he would write until dark, or, if pressed 
by business until nine o'clock in the evening ; otherwise he read in 
the evening, or amused himself with a game of whist. His secre- 
tary, Mr. Lear, after two years' residence in the family on the most 
confidential footing, says, — "General Washington is, I believe, 
almost the only man of an exalted character, who does not lose 
some part of his respectability by an intimate acquaintance. I 
have never found a single thing that could lessen my respect for 
him. A complete knowledge of his honesty, uprightness and can- 
dor in all his private transactions, has sometimes led me to think 
him more than a man." The children of Parke Curtis formed a 
lively part of his household. He was fond of the children and 
apt to unbend with them. Miss Curtis, recalling in after life the 
scenes of her childhood, writes : "I have sometimes made him 
laugh most heartily from sympathy with my joyous and extrava- 
gant spirits;" she observes, however, that "he was a silent, 
thoughtful man. He spoke little generally; never of himself. I 
never heard him relate a single act of his life during the war. I 
have often seen him perfectly abstracted, his lips moving; but no 



540 LIFE OF WASHIXGTOX. 

sound was perceptible." An observant traveller, Mr. Elkanah 
\Vatson, who visited Mount Vernon in the winter of 1785, bearer 
of a letter of introduction from Gen. Greene and Col. Fitzgerald, 
gives a home picture of Washington in his retirement: "The cau- 
tious reserve which wisdom and policy dictated, whilst engaged in 
rearing the glorous fabric of our independence, was evidently the 
result of consummate prudence, and not characteristic of his 
nature. I observed a peculiarity in his smile, which seemed to 
illuminate his eye; his whole countenance beamed with intelli- 
gence, while it commanded confidence and respect. I found him 
kind and benignant in the domestic circle; revered and beloved by 
all around him; agreeably social, without ostentation; deRghting 
in anecdote and adventures; without assumption; his domestic 
arrangements hannonious and systematic. His servants seemed 
to watch his eye, and to anticipate his every wish; hence a look 
was equivalent to a command. His servant Billy, the faithful 
companion of his military career, was always at his side. Smihng 
content animated and beamed on every countenance in his pres- 
ence." Mr. Watson had taken a severe cold in the course of a 
harsh winter journey, and coughed excessively. Washington 
pressed him to take some remedies but he declined. After retir- 
ing for the night his coughing increased. "When some time had 
elapsed," writes he, "the door of my room was gently opened, 
and, on drawing my bed curtains, I beheld Washington himself, 
standing at my bedside with a bowl of hot tea in his hand. I was 
mortified and distressed beyond expression. This little incident, 
occurring in common life with an ordinary man, would not have 
been noticed; but as a trait of the benevolence and private virtue 
of Washington, deserves to be recorded." The late Bishop 
White, in subsequent years, speaking of Washington's unassum- 
ing manners, observes: "I know no man who so carefully guarded 
against the discoursing of himself or of his acts, or of anything 
that pertained to him; and it has occasionally occurred to me 
when in his company, that, if a stranger to his person were pres- 
ent, he would never have known from anything said by him that 
he was conscious of having distinguished himself in the eye of the 
world." An anecdote is told of Washington's conduct while com- 
niander-in-chief ; illustrative of his benignant attention to others, 
and his freedom from all assumption. While the army was en- 
camped at Morristown, he one day attended a religious meeting 
where divine senice was to be celebrated in the open air. A chair 
had been set out for his use. Just before the service commenced, 
a woman with a child in her arms approached. All the seats were 
occupied. Washington immediately rose, placed her in the chair 
which had been assigned to him, and remained standing during 
the whole ser\nce. The reverential awe which his deeds and 
elevated position threw around him was often a source of annoy- 
ance to him in private life; especially when he perceived its effect 
upon the young and gay. We have been told of a case in point, 
when he made his appearance at a private ball where all were 
enjoymg themselves with the utmost glee. The moment he en- 



I786.J WASHINGTON IN SOCIAL LIFE. 541. 

tered the room the buoyant mirth was checked ; the dance lost its 
animation; every face was grave; every tongue was silent. He 
remained for a time, endeavoring to engage in conversation with 
some of the young people, and to break the spell ; finding it in 
vain, he retired sadly to the company of the elders in an adjoining 
room, expressing his regret that his presence should operate as 
such a damper. After a little while light laughter and happy 
voices again resounded from the ball-room ; upon which he rose 
cautiously, approached on tip-toe the door, which was ajar, and 
there stood some time a delighted spectator of the youthful revelry. 
Though habitually grave and thoughtful, he was of a social dispo- 
sition, and loved cheerful society. He was fond of the dance; 
and it was the boast of many ancient dames in our day, who had 
been bells in the 'time of the Revolution, that they had danced 
minuets with him, or had him for a partner in contra-dances. 
"We had a little dance at my quarters," writes Gen. Greene from 
Middlebrook, in March, 1779. "His Excellency and Mrs. Greene 
danced upwards of three hours without once sitting down." 

More than one instance is told of Washington's being sur- 
prised into hearty fits of laughter, even during the war. We have 
recorded one produced by the sudden appearance of old Gen. 
Putnam on horseback, with a female prisoner en crotipe. The fol- 
lowing is another which occurred at the camp at Morristown. 
Washington had purchased a young horse of great spirit and 
power. A braggadocio of the army, vain of his horsemanship, 
asked the privilege of breaking it. Washington gave his consent, 
and with some of his officers attended to see the horse receive his 
first lesson. After much preparation, the pretender to equitation 
mounted into the saddle .and was making a great display of his 
science, when the horse suddenly planted his forefeet, threw up his 
heels, and gave the unlucky Gambado a somerset over his head. 
Washington, a thorough horseman, and quick to perceive the 
ludicrous in these matters, was so convulsed with laughter, that, 
we are told, the tears ran down his cheeks. Still another instance 
is given, which occurred at the return of peace, when he was sail- 
ing in a boat on the Hudson, and was so overcome by the drollery 
of a story told by Major Fairlie of New York, of facetious memory, 
that he fell back in the boat in a paroxysm of laughter. In that 
fit of laughter, it was sagely presumed that he threw off the burthen 
of care which had been weighing down his spirits throughout the 
war. He certainly relaxed much of his thoughtful gravity of 
demeanor when he had no longer the anxieties of a general com- 
mand to harass him. Hearty laughter, however, was rare with 
Washington. The sudden explosions we hear of were the result 
of some sudden and ludicrous surprise. His general habit was a 
calm seriousness, easily softening into a benevolent smile. In 
some few of his familiar letters, yet preserved, and not relating to 
business, there is occasionally a vein of pleasantry and even of 
humor ; but almost invariably, they treat of matters of too grave 
import to admit of anything of the kind. The passion for hunting 
had revived with Washington on returning to his old hunting- 



542 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

grounds ; but he had no hounds. His kennel had been broken up 
when he went to the wars, and the dogs given away, and it was 
not easy to replace them. After a time he received several hounds 
from France, sent out by Lafayette and other of the French 
officers, and once more sallied forth to renew his ancient sport. 

General Greene died on the iSth of June, 1786, at his estate of 
Mulberry Grove, on Savannah River, presented to him by the 
State of Georgia. His last illness was brief ; caused by a stroke 
of the sun ; he was but forty-four years of age. The news of his 
death struck heavily on Washington's heart, to whom, in tlie most 
arduous trials of the Revolution, he had been a second self. He 
had taken Washington as his model, and possessed naturally many 
of his great qualities. Like him, he was sound in judgment ; 
persevering in the midst of discouragements ; calm and self-pos- 
sessed in time of danger; heedful of the safety of others; heedless 
of his own. Like him, he was modest and unpretending, and hke 
him he had a perfect command of temper. He had Washington's 
habits of early rising, and close and methodical despatch of busi- 
ness, "never suttering the day to crowd upon the monow." In 
private intercourse he was frank, noble, candid and intelligent ; in 
the hurry of business he was free from petulence, and had, we are 
told, " a winning blandness of manner that won tlie afiection of his 
officers." His campaigns in the Carolinas showed him to be a 
worthy disciple of W"ashington, keeping the war ahve by his own 
persevering hope and inexhaustible energy, and, as it were, fight- 
ing almost without weapons. His great contest of generalship 
w.th the veteran Cornwallis, has insured for him a lasting renown. 
" He was a great and good man ! " was Washington's comprehen- 
sive eulogy on him. 

Washington was watching with intense solicitude the working 
together of the several parts in the great political confederacy; 
anxious to know whether the tliirteen distinct States, under the 
present organization, could form a sufficiently efficient general 
government. He was daily becoming more and more doubtful of 
the solidity of the fabric he had assisted to raise. The form of con- 
federation which had bound the States together and met the public 
exigencies during the Revolution, when there was a pressure of ex- 
ternal danger, was daily proving more and more incompetent to 
the purposes of a national government. Congress had devised a 
system of credit to provide for the national expenditure and the 
extinction of the national debts, which amounted to something 
more than fifty miUions of dollars. The system experienced neg- 
lect from some States and opposition from others ; each consulting 
its Ic'cal interests and prejudices, instead of the interests and obi- 
gations of the whole. In like manner treaty stipulations, which 
bound the good faith of the whole, were slighted, if not violated by 
individual States, apparently unconscious that they must each 
share in the discredit thus brought upon tlie national name. 

From letters written by Washington, we gather some of the 
ideas on national policy which were occupying his mind : — " I have 
ever been a friend to adequate powe^^ in Congress, without which 



1786.] THE FEDERAL CONSTITUTION. 543 

it is evident to me we never shall establish a national character, 
or be considered as on a respectable footing by the powers of 
Europe — We are either a united people under one head and for 
federal purposes, or we are thirteen independent sovereignties, 
eternally counteracting each other. — If the foiTner, whatever such 
a majority of the States as the constitution points out, conceives to 
be for the benefit of the whole, should, in my humble opinion, be 
submitted to by the minority. — I can foresee no evil greater than 
disunion; than those unreasonable ]^2\o\xs\^s (I say unreasonable, 
because I would have a proper jealousy always awake, and the 
United States on the watch to prevent individual States from 
infracting the constitution with impunity) which are continually 
poisoning our minds and fillmg them with imaginary' evils for the 
prevention of real ones. The consequences of a lax or inefficient 
government are too obvious to be dwelt upon. Thirteen sover- 
eignties pulling against each other, and all tugging at the federal 
head, will soon bring ruin on the whole ; whereas, a liberal and 
energetic constitution, well checked and well watched, to prevent 
encroachments, might restore us to that degree of respectability 
and consequence to which we had the fairestprospect of attaining." 
Thus Washington, even though in retirement, was almost uncon- 
sciously exercising a powerful influence on national affairs; no 
longer the soldier, he was now becoming the statesman. The 
leading expedient for federate organization, mooted in his confer- 
ences with the commissioners of Maryland and Virginia, during 
their visit to Mount Vernon in the previous year, had been ex- 
tended and ripened in legislative Assemblies, and ended in a plan 
of a convention composed of delegates from all the States, to meet 
in Philadelphia for the sole and express purpose of revising the 
federal system, and correcting its defects; the proceedings of the 
convention to be subsequently reported to Congress, and the sev- 
eral Legislatures, for approval and confirmation. He was unani- 
mously put at the head of the Virginia delegation; but for some 
time objected to accept the nomination. •• It will have," said he, 
*' a tendency to sweep me back into the tide of public affairs, when 
retirement and ease are so much desired by me, and so essentially 
necessary." The weight and influence of his name and counsel 
were felt to be all important in giving dignity to the delegation. 
He made up his mind to serve, and went into a course of prepara- 
tory reading on history, and of ancient and modern confederacies. 
An abstract of the general principles of each with notes of their 
vices or defects, exists in his own handwriting, among his papers. 
On the 9th of May, he set out in his carriage from Mount Vernon 
to attend the convention. At Chester, where he arrived on the 
13th, he was met by Gen. Mifilin, now speaker of the Pennsylvania 
Assembly, Gen. Knox and Varnum, Col. Humphreys, and other 
personages of note. At Gray's Ferry the city light-horse were in 
attendance, by whom he was escorted into Philadelphia. It was 
not until the 25th of May that a sufficient number of delegates 
were assembled to form a quorum; when they proceeded to organ- 



544 LJFE OF WASHINGTON. 

ize the body, and by a unanimous vote Washington was called up 
to the chair as President. 

This memorable convention sat from four to seven hours each 
day for four months ; every point was the subject of able and 
scrupulous discussion by the best talent, and noblest spirits of the 
country. Washington felt restrained by his situation as President, 
from taking part in the debates, but his well-known opinions influ- 
enced the whole. The result was the formation of the constitu- 
tion of the United States, which (with some amendments made in 
after years) still exists. As the members on the last day of the 
session were signing the engrossed constitution. Dr. Franklin, 
looking towards the President's chair, at the back of which a sun 
was painted, observed to those persotis next to him, " I have oft^n 
and often, in the course of the session, and the vicissitudes of my 
hopes and fears as to its issue, looked at the sun behind the Presi- 
dent, without being able to tell whether it was rising or setting ; at 
length I have the happiness to know it is a rising and not a setting 
sun." The constitution thus formed, was forwarded to Congress, 
and thence transmitted to the State Legislatures, each of which sub- 
mitted it to a State convention composed of delegates chosen for 
that express purpose by the people. The ratification of the instru- 
ment by nine States was necessary to carry it into effect ; and as the 
several State conventions would assemble at different times, nearly 
a year must elapse before the decisions of the requisite number could 
be obtained. Washington resumed his retired life at Mount Ver- 
non, but was kept informed by his numerous correspondents, such as 
James Madison, John Jay, and Generals Knox, Lincoln and Arm- 
strong, of the progress of the constitution through its various ordeals, 
and of the strenuous opposition which it met with in different quar- 
ters ; both in debate and through the press. A diversity of opinions 
and inclinations on the subject had been expected by him. Still 
he never had a doubt that it would ultimately be adopted ; and, 
in fact, the national decision in its favor was more fully and strongly 
pronounced than even he had anticipated. His feelings on learn- 
ing the result were expressed with that solemn and religious faith 
in the protection of heaven, manifested by him in all the trials and 
vicissitudes through which his country had passed. "We may," 
said he, "with a kind of pious and grateful exultation, trace the 
finger of Providence through those dark and mysterious events, 
which first induced the States to appoint a general convention, and 
then led them, one after another, by such steps as were best calcu- 
lated to effect the object, into an adoption of the system recom- 
mended by the general convention ; thereby, in all human proba- 
bility, laying a lasting foundation for tranquillity and happiness, 
when we had but too much reason to fear, that confusion and mis- 
ery were coming rapidly upon us." The tesiimonials of ratifica- 
tion having been received by Congress from a sufficient number of 
States, an act was passed by that body on the 13th of Sept., 
appointing the first Wednesday in Jan., 1789, for the people of the 
United States to choose electors of a President according to the 
constitution, and the first Wednesday in the month of Feb. follow- 



1 789. ] WASHING TON ELECTED PRESIDENT. 545 

ing for the electors to meet and make a choice. The meeting of 
the government was to be on the first Wednesday in March, and 
in the city of New York. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

WASHINGTON AS PRESIDENT. 

The adoption of the Federal constitution was another epoch 
in the life of Washington. Before the official forms of an election 
could be carried into operation, a unanimous sentiment throughout 
the Union pronounced him the nation's choice to fill the presiden- 
tial chair. He looked forward to the possibility of his election 
with characteristic modesty, and unfeigned reluctance ; as his let- 
ters to his confidential friends bear witness. " It has no fascinating 
allurements for me, "writes he to Lafayette. " Atmy time of life and 
under my circumstances, the increasing infirmities of nature and 
the growing love of retirement do not permit me to entertain a wish 
beyond that of living and dying an honest man on my own farm. 
Let those follow the pursuits of ambition and fame who have a 
keener relish for them, or who may have more years in store for 
the enjoyment." "Should circumstances render it in a manner 
inevitably necessary," (to accept the office of President), writes he 
to Lafayette, " I shall assume the task with the most unfeigned 
reluctance, and with a real diffidence, for which I shall probably 
receive no credit from the world. If I know my own heart, noth- 
ing short of a conviction of duty will induce me again to take an 
active part in public affairs ; and in that case, if I can form a plan 
for my own conduct, my endeavors shall be unremittingly exerted, 
even at the hazard of former fame or present popularity, to extri- 
cate my country from the embarrassments in which it is entangled 
through want of credit ; and to establish a general system of policy, 
wliich if pursued will ensure permanent felicity to the common- 
wealth. I think I see a path clear and direct as a ray of light, 
which leads to the attainment of that object. Nothing but har- 
mony, honesty, industry, and frugality, are necessary to make us a 
great and happy people. Happily the present posture of affairs, 
and the prevailing disposition of my countrymen, promise to co-op- 
erate in establishing those four great and essential pillars of public 
felicity." The election took place at the appointed time, and it 
was soon ascertained that Washington was chosen President for the 
term of four years from the 4th of March : and he made prepara- 
tions to depart for the seat of government, as soon as he should 
receive official notice of his election. — Among other duties, he 
paid a visit to his mother at Fredericksburg ; it was a painful, 
because likely to be a final one, for she was afflicted with a malady 
which, it was evident, must soon terminate her life. Their parting 
was affectionate, but solemn ; she had always been reserved and 
moderate in expressing herself in regard to the successes of her 
18 



546 LIFB OF WASHINGTON. 

son ; but it must have been a serene satisfaction at the close of her 
life to see him elevated by his virtues to the highest honor of his 
country. From a delay in forming a quorum of Congress the 
votes of the electoral college were not counted until early in April, 
when they were found to be unanimous in favor of Washington. 
On the 14th of April, he received a letter from the president of 
Congress, duly notifying him of his election ; and he prepared to 
set out immediately for New York, the seat of government. At 
the first stage of his journey a trial of his tenderest feelings 
awaited him in a public dinner given him at Alexandria, by 
his neighbors and personal friends. The mayor, who presided, 
and spoke the sentiments of the people of Alexandria, deplored in 
his departure the loss of the first and best of their citizens, the orna- 
ment of the aged, the model of the young, the improver of their 
agriculture; the friend of their commerce, the protector of their 
infant academy, the benefactor of their poor, — but "go," added 
he, " and make a grateful people happy, who will be doubly grate- 
ful when they contemplate this new sacrifice for their interests." 
Washington was too deeply affected for many words in reply. 
"Just after having bade adieu to my domestic connections," said 
he, "this tender proof of your friendship is but too well calculated 
to awaken still further my sensibility, and increase my regret at 
parting from the enjoyments of private life. All that now remains 
for me is to commit myself and you to the care of that beneficent 
Being, who, on a former occasion, happily brought us together 
after a long and distressing separation. Perhaps the same gracious 
Providence will again indulge me. But words fail me. Unuttera- 
ble sensations must, then, be left to more expressive silence, while 
from an aching heart I bid all my affectionate friends and kind 
neighbors farewell ! " His progress to the seat of government 
was a continual ovation. The ringing of bells and roaring of 
cannonry proclaimed his course through the country. The old 
and young, women and children, thronged the highways to bless 
and Avelcome him. Deputations of the most respectable inhabi- 
tants from the principal places came forth to meet and escort him. 
At Baltimore, on his arrival and departure, his carriage was atten- 
ded by a numerous cavalcade of citizens, and he was saluted by 
the thunder of artillery. At the frontier of Pennsylvania his former 
companion in arms, Mifflin, now governor of the State, with Judge 
Peters and a civil and military escort, was waiting to receive him. 
At Chester, where he stopped to breakfast, there were preparations 
for a public entrance into Philadelphia. Cavalry had assembled 
from the surrounding country ; a superb white horse was led out 
for Washington to mount, and a grand procession set forward, 
with Gen. St. Clair of revolutionary notoriety at its head. It 
gathered numbers as it advanced ; passed under triumphal arches 
entwined with laurel, and entered Philadelphia amid the shouts of 
the multitude. A day of public festivity succeeded, ended by a 
display of fireworks. Washington's reply to the congratulations 
of the mayor at a great civic banquet, spoke the genuine feelings 
of his modest nature, amid these testimonials of a world's applause. 



1,-89.] ENTHUSIASM OF THE PEOPLE. 547 

*' When I contemplate the interposition of Providence, as it was 
visibly manifested in guiding us through the Revolution, in prepar- 
us for the reception of the general government, and in conciliating 
*he good will of the people of America towards one another after 
its adoption, I feel myself oppressed and almost overwhelmed 
with a sense of divine munificence. I feel that nothing is due to 
my personal agency in all those wonderful and complicated events, 
except what can be attributed to an honest zeal for the good of my 
country." 

We question whether any of these testimonials of a nation's 
gratitude affected Washington more sensibly than those he 
received at Trenton. It was on a sunny afternoon when he 
arrived on the banks of the Delaware, where, twelve years before, 
he had crossed in darkness and storm, through clouds of snow 
and drifts of floating ice, on his daring attempt to strike a blow at 
a triumphant enemy. Here at present all was peace and sunshine, 
the broad river flowed placidly along, and crowds awaited him on 
the opposite bank, to hail him with love and transport. The 
reader may remember Washington's gloomy night on the banks 
of the Assunpink, which flows through Trenton; the camp fires of 
Cornwallis in front of him; the Delaware full of floating ice in the 
rear; and his sudden resolve on the midnight retreat which turned 
the fortunes of the campaign. On the bridge crossing that event- 
ful stream, the ladies of Trenton had caused a triumphal arch to 
be erected. It was entwined with evergreens and laurels, and 
bore the inscription, " The defender of the mothers will be the pro- 
tector of the daughters." At this bridge the matrons of the city 
were assembled to pay him reverence; and as he passed under the 
arch, a number of young girls, dressed in white and crowned with 
garlands, strewed flowers before him, singing an ode expressive of 
their love and gratitude. Never was ovation more graceful, 
touching and sincere; and Washington, tenderly affected, declared 
that the impression of it on his heart could never be effaced. His 
whole progress through New Jersey, must have afforded a similar 
contrast to his weary marchings to and fro, harassed by doubts 
and perplexities, with bale fires blazing on its hills, instead of fes- 
t.ve illuminations, and when the ringing of bells and booming of 
cannon, now so joyous, were the signals of invasion and maraud. 
At Elizabethtown Point, a committee of both Houses of Congress, 
with various civic functionaries, waited by appointment to receive 
him. He embarked on board of a splendid barge, constructed 
for the occasion, and commanded by Commodore Nicholson. 
Other barges fancifully decorated followed, having on board the 
heads of departments and other pubhc officers, and several dis- 
tinguished citizens. As they passed through the strait between the 
Jerseys and Staten Island, called the Kills, other boats decorated 
with flags fell in their wake, until the whole, forming a nautical 
procession, swept up the broad and beautiful bay of New York, to 
the sound of instrumental music. On board of two vessels were 
parties of ladies and gentlemen who sang congratulatory odes as 
Washington's barge approached. The ships at anchor in the har- 



548 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

bor, dressed in colors, fired salutes as it passed. One alone, the 
Galveston, a Spanish man-of-war, displayed no signs of gratulation, 
until the barge of the general was nearly abreast; when suddenly 
as if by magic, the yards were manned, the ship burst forth, as it 
were, into a full array of flags and signals, and thundered a 
salute of thirteen guns. He appoached the landing place of Mur- 
ray's ^Vharf, amid the ringing of bells, the roaring of cannonry, 
and the shouting of multitudes collected on every pier-head. On 
landing, he was received by Gov. Clinton. Gen. Knox, too, who, 
had taken such affectionate leave of him on his retirement from 
military life, was there to welcome him in his civil capacity. 
Other of his fellow-soldiers of the Revolution were likewise there, 
mingled with the civic dignitaries. At this juncture, an officer 
stepped up and requested Washington's orders, announcing him- 
self as commanding his guard. Washington desired him to pro- 
ceed according to the directions he might have received in the pres- 
ent arrangements, but that for the future the affection of his fellow- 
citizens was all the guard he wanted. Carpets had been spread to 
a caniage prepared to convey him to his destined residence, but 
he prefened to walk. He was attended by a long civil and mili- 
tary train. In the streets through which he passed the houses 
were decorated Avith flags, silken banners, garlands of flowers and 
evergreens, and bore his name in every form of ornament. The 
streets were crowded with people, so that it was with difficulty a 
passage could be made by the city officers. That day he dined 
with Gov. Clinton, who had invited a numerous company of public 
functionaries and foreign diplomatists to meet him, and in the even- 
ing the city was brilliantly illuminated. Would the reader know 
the effect upon Washington's mind of this triumphant entry into 
New York? It was to depress rather than to excite him. Mod- 
estly diffident of his abilities to cope with the new duties on which 
he was entering, he was ovenvhelmed by what he regarded as 
proofs of public expectation. Noting in his diary the events of the 
day, he writes : "The display of boats which attended and joined 
us on this occasion, some with vocal and some with instrumental 
music on board; the decorations of the ships, the roar of cannon, 
and the loud acclamations of the people which rent the skies, as I 
passed along the wharves, filled my mind with sensations as pain- 
ful (considering the reverse of this scene, which may be the case 
after all my labors to do good) as they are pleasing." A question 
arose as to the form or title by which the President elect was to be 
addressed; and a committee in both Houses was appointed to 
report upon the subject. It was finally resolved that the address 
should be simply "the President of the United States," without 
any addition of title; a judicious form which has remained to the 
present day. The inauguration took place on the 30th of April. 
At nine o'clock in the morning, there were religious services in all 
the churches, and prayers put up for the blessing of Heaven on 
the new government. At twelve o'clock the city troops paraded 
before Washington's door, and soon after the committees of Con- 
gress and heads of departments came in their carriages. At half- 



1789. J INAUGURATION OF WASHINGTON, 549 

past twelve the procession moved forward, preceded by the troops; 
next came the committees and heads of departments in their car- 
riages; then Washington in a coach of state, his aide-de-camp, 
Col. Humphreys, and his secretary, Mr. Lear, in his own carriage. 
The foreign ministers and a long train of cidzens brought up the 
rear. About two hundred yards before reaching the hall, Wash- 
ington and his suite alighted from their carriages, and passed 
through the troops, who were drawn up on each side, into the hall 
and senate chamber, where the Vice President, the Senate and 
House of Representatives were assembled. The Vice President, 
John Adams, recently inaugurated, advanced and conducted 
Washington to a chair of state at the upper end of the room. A 
solemn silence prevailed; when the Vice President rose, and in- 
formed him that all things were prepared for him to take the oath 
of office required by the constitution. The oath was to be admin- 
istered by the Chanceller of the State of New York, in a balcony 
in front of the senate chamber, and in full view of an immense 
multitude occupying the street, the windows, and even roofs of the 
adjacent houses. The balcony formed a kind of open recess, 
with lofty columns supporting the roof. In the center was a table 
with a covering of crimson velvet, upon which lay a superbly 
bound Bible on a crimson velvet cushion. This was all the para- 
phernalia for the august scene. All eyes were fixed upon the bal- 
cony, when, at the appointed hour, Washington made his appear- 
ance, accompanied by various public functionaries, and members 
of the Senate and House of Representatives. He was clad in a 
full suit of dark-brown cloth, of American manufacture, with a 
steel-hilted dress sword, white silk stockings, and silver shoe- 
buckles. His hair was dressed and powdered in the fashion of the 
day, and worn in a bag and solitaire. His entrance on the bal- 
cony was hailed by universal shouts. He was evidently moved 
by this demonstration of pubhc affection. Advancing to the front 
of the balcony, he laid his hand upon his heart, bowed several 
times, and then retreated to an arm-chair near the table. The 
populace appeared to understand that the scene had overcome 
him; and were hushed at once into profound silence. After a few 
moments Washington rose and again came forward. John Adams, 
the Vice President, stood on his right; on his left the Chancellor of 
the State, Robert R. Livingston; somewhat in the rear were Roger 
Sherman, Alexander Hamilton, Generals Knox, St. Clair, the 
Baron Steuben and others. The chancellor advanced to administer 
the oath prescribed by the constitution, and Mr. Ods, the secretary 
of the Senate, held up the Bible on its crimson cushion. The 
oath was read slowly and distinctly; Washington at the same time 
laying his hand on the open Bible. When it was concluded, he 
replied solemnly, "I swear — so help me God!" Mr. Otis would 
have raised the Bible to his lips, but he bowed down reverently 
and kissed it. The chancellor now stepped forward, waved his 
hand and exclaimed, " Long live George Washington, President 
of the United States!" At this moment a flag was displayed on 
■ ihe cupola of the hall; on which signal there was a general dis- 



5 5o LIFE OF WASHING TON. 

charge of artillery on the battery. All the bells in the city rang 
out a joyful peal, and the multitude rent the air with acclamations. 
Washington again bowed to the people and returned into the sen- 
ate chamber, where he delivered, to both Houses of Congress, his' 
inaugural address, characterized by his usual modesty, moderation 
and good sense, but uttered with a vo'ice deep, slightly tremulous, 
and so low as to demand close attention in the listeners. After 
this he proceeded with the whole assemblage on foot to St. Paul's 
church, where prayers suited to the occasion were read by Dr. 
Prevost, Bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church in New York, 
who had been appointed by the Senate one of the chaplains of 
Congress. So closed the ceremonies of the inauguration. 

We have been accustomed to look to Washington's private let- 
ters for the sentiments of his heart. Those written to several of 
his friends immediately after his inauguration, show how little he 
was excited by his official elevation. " I greatly fear," writes he, 
" that my countrymen will expect too much from me. I fear, if 
the issue of public measures should not correspond with their san- 
guine expectations, they will turn fhe undue praises, which they 
are heaping upon me at this moment, into equally extravagant, 
though I will fondly hope unmerited censures." Little was his 
modest spirit aware that the praises so dubiously received were but 
the opening notes of a theme that was to increase from age to age, 
to pervade all lands and endure throughout all generations. 

We have endeavored to narrate faithfully the career of Wash- 
ington from childhood, through his early Surveying expeditions in 
the wilderness, his diplomatic mission to the French posts on the 
frontier, his campaigns in the French war, his arduous trials as 
commander-in-chief throughout the Revolution, the noble simplic- 
ity of his life in retirement, until we have shown him elevated to 
the presidential chair, by no effort of his own, in a manner against 
his wishes, by the unanimous vote of a grateful country. The plan 
of our work has necessarily carried us widely into the campaigns 
of the Revolution, even where Washington was not present in 
person; for his spirit pervaded and directed the whole, and a gen- 
eral knowledge of the whole is necessary to appreciate the sagac- 
ity, forecast, enduring fortitude, and comprehensive wisdom with 
which he conducted it. We have endeavored to keep in view the 
prevailing poverty of resources, the scandalous neglects, the 
squalid miseries of all kinds, with which its champions had 
to contend in their expeditions through trackless wilder- 
nesses, or thinly peopled regions; beneath scorching suns or 
inclement skies; their wintry marches to be traced by bloody foot- 
prints on snow and ice ; their desolate encampments, rendered 
still more desolate by nakedness and famine. It was in the 
patience and fortitude with which these ills were sustained by a 
half-disciplined yeomanry, voluntary exiles from their homes, des- 
titute of all the "pomp and circumstance" of war to excite them, 
and animated solely by their patriotism, that we read the noblest 
and most affecting characteristics of that great struggle for human 
rights. They do wrong to its moral grandeur, who seek by com- 



1789] THE NEW GOVERNMENT. 551 

monplace exaggeration, to give a melo-dramatic effect and false 
glare to its military operations, and to place its greatest triumphs 
in the conflicts of the field. Lafayette showed a true sense of the 
nature of the struggle, when Napoleon, accustomed to effect am- 
bitious purposes by hundreds of thousands of troops, and tens of 
thousands of slain, sneered at the scanty armies of the American 
Revolution and its "boasted allies." '• Sire," was the admirable 
and comprehensive reply, " it was the grandest of causes won by 
skirmishes of sentinels and outposts." We have quoted Washing- 
ton's own words and writings largely, to explain his feehngs and 
motives, and give the true key to his policy; for never did man 
leave a more truthful mirror of his heart and mind, and a more 
thorough exponent of his conduct, than he has left in his copious 
correspondence. There his character is to be found in all its ma- 
jestic simplicty, its massive grandeur, and quiet colossal strength. 
He was no hero of romance; there was nothing of romantic hero- 
ism in his nature. As a warrior, he was incapable of fear, but 
made no merit of defying danger. He fought for a cause, but not 
for personal renown. Gladly, when he had won the cause, he hung 
up his sword never again to take it down. Glory, that blatant 
word, which haunts some mihtary minds like the bray of the 
trumpet, formed no part of his aspirations. To act justly was his 
instinct, to promote the public weal his constant effort, to deserve 
the " affections of good men" his ambition. With such qualifica- 
tions for the pure exercise of sound judgment and comprehensive 
wisdom, he ascended the presidential chair. 

The eyes of the world were upon him at the commencement of 
his administration. He had won laurels in the field: would they 
continue to flourish in the cabinet? His position was surrounded 
by difficulties. Inexperienced in the duties of civil administration, 
he was to inaugurate a new and untried system of government, 
composed of States and people, as yet a mere experiment, to 
which some looked forward with buoyant confidence, — ma^iy with 
doubt and apprehension. He had moreover a hi^h-spirited people 
to manage, in whom a jealous passion for freedonr and independ- 
ence had been strengthened by war, and who might bear with im- 
patience even the restraints of self-imposed government. The 
constitution which he was to inaugurate had met with vehement 
opposition, when under discussion in the general and State govern- 
ments. Only three States, New Jersey, Delaware and Georgia, 
had accepted it unanimously. Several of the most important States 
had adopted it by a mere majority ; five of them under an expressed 
expectation of specified amendments or modifications ; while two 
States, Rhode Island and NorthCarolina, still stood aloof A diversity 
of opinions still existed concerning the new government. Some feared 
that it would have too little control over the individual States; that 
the political connection would prove too weak to preserve order 
and prevent civil strife: others, that it would be too strong for their 
separate independence, and would tend towards consolidation and 
despotism. The very extent of the country he was called upon 
to govern, ten times larger than that of any previous republic, must 



552 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

have pressed with weight upon Washington's mind. It presented 
to the Atlantic a front of fifteen hundred miles, divided into indi- 
vidual States, differing in the forms of their local governments, 
differing from each other in interests, in territorial magnitudes, in 
the amount of population, in manners, soils, climates and produc- 
tions, and the characteristics of their several peoples. Beyond the 
Alleglianies extended regions almost boundless, as yet for the most 
part wild and uncultivated, the asylum of roving Indians and rest- 
less, discontented white men. Vast tracts, however, were rapidly 
being peopled, and would soon be portioned into sections requir- 
ing local governments. The great natural outlets for the exporta- 
tion of the products of this region of inexhaustible fertiUty, was 
the Mississippi; but Spain opposed a barrier to the free navigation 
of this river. Great Britain, too, was giving grounds for territorial 
solicitude in these distant quarters, by retaining possession of the 
Western posts, the surrender of which had been stipulated by the 
treaty. Her plea was, that debts due to British subjects, for 
Avhich by the same treaty the United States were bound, remained 
unpaid. This the Americans alleged was a mere pretext; the real 
object of their retention being the monopoly of the fur trade; and 
to the mischievous influence exercised by these posts over the 
Indian tribes, was attributed much of the hostile disposition mani- 
fested by the latter along the Western frontier. While these 
brooding causes of anxiety existed at home, the foreign commerce 
of the Union was on a most unsatisfactory footing, and required 
prompt and thorough attention. It was subject to maraud, even 
by the corsairs of Algiers, Tunis and Tripoh, who captured 
American merchant vessels and carried their crews into slavery; 
no treaty having yet been made with any of the Barbary powers 
excepting Morocco. To complete the perplexities which beset the 
new government, the finances of the country were in a lamentable 
state. There was no money in the treasury. The efforts of the 
former government to pay or fund its debts, had failed; there was 
a universal state of indebtedness, foreign and domestic, and pub- 
lic credit was prostrate. Washington was painfully aware of the dif- 
ficulties and dangers of an undertaking in which past history and 
past experience afforded no precedents. " I walk, as it were, on 
untrodden ground," said he; "so many untoward circumstances 
may intervene in such a new and critical situation, that I shall feel 
an insuperable diffidence in my own abilities. I feel, in the execution 
of my arduous office, how much I shall stand in need of the coun- 
tenance and aid of every friend to myself, of every friend to the 
revolution, and of every lover of good government." As yet he 
was without the support of constitutional advisers, the departments 
under the new government not being organized; he could turn 
with confidence, however, for counsel in an emergency to John 
Jay, who still remained at the head of affairs, where he had been 
placed in 1784. He was sure of sympathy also in his old com- 
rade. Gen. Knox, who continued to officiate as secretary of war; 
while the affairs of the treasury were managed by a board, con- 
sisting of Samuel Osgood, Walter Livingston, and Arthur Lee. 



1789.] WASHINGTON'S ADVISERS. 553 

Among the personal friends not in office, to whom Washington 
felt that he could safely have recourse for aid in initiating the new 
government, was Alexander Hamilton. It is true, many had their 
doubts of his sincere adhesion to it. In the convention in Phila- 
delphia, he had held up the British constitution as a model to be 
approached as nearly as possible, by blending some of the advan- 
tages of monarchy with the republican form. The form finally 
adopted was too low-toned for him; he feared it might prove feeble 
and inefficient ; but he voted for it as the best attainable, advo- 
cated it in the State convention in New York, and in a series of 
essays, collectively known as The FederaHst, written conjunc- 
tively with Madison and Jay; and it was mainly through his efforts 
as a speaker and a writer that the constitution was ultimately 
accepted. " The idea of a perfect equality of political rights 
among the citizens, exclusive of all permanent or hereditary dis- 
tinctions," had not hitherto, he thought, from an imperfect struct- 
ure of the government, had a fair trial, and "was of a nature to 
engage the good wishes of every good man, whatever might be 
his theoretic doubts;" the endeavor, therefore, in his opinion, 
ought to be to give it " a better chance of success by a govern- 
ment more capable of energy and order." Washington, who 
knew and appreciated Hamilton's character, had implicit confi- 
dence in his sincerity, and felt assured that he would loyally aid in 
carrying into effect the constitution as adopted. James Madison 
was among the members of Congress : he had been in the con- 
vention, had labored in the The Federalist ; and his talents as a 
speaker, and calm, dispassionate reasoner, his extensive informa- 
tion and legislative experience, destined him to be a leader in the 
House. Highly appreciating his intellectual and moral worth, 
Washington would often turn to him for counsel. " I am trouble- 
some," would he say, "but you must excuse me; ascribe it to 
friendship and confidence." Knox's mind was ardent and active, 
his imagination vivid, as was his language. He had abandoned 
the military garb, but still maintained his soldier-like air. He was 
large in person, above the middle stature, with a full face, radiant 
and benignant, bespeaking his open, buoyant, generous nature. He 
had a sonorous voice, and sometimes talked rather grandly, flour- 
ishing his cane to give effect to his periods. He was cordially 
appreciated by Washington, who had experienced his prompt and 
efficient talent in time of war, had considered him one of the 
ablest officers of the revolution, and now looked to him as an ener- 
getic man of business, capable of giving practical advice in 
time of peace, and cherished for him that strong feeling of ancient 
companionship in toil and danger, which bound the veterans of 
the revolution firmly to each other. 

The conflict of opinions that had already occurred as to the 
form and title by which the President was to be addressed, had 
made Washington aware that every step at the outset of his 
career would be subject to scrutiny, perhaps cavil, and might 
hereafter be cited as a precedent. Looking round, therefore, 
upon the able men at hand, such as Adams, Hamilton, Jay, Madi- 



554 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

son, he propounded to them a series of questions as to a line of 
conduct proper for him to observe. In regard to visitors, for 
instance, would not one day in the week be sufficient for visits of 
compliment, and one hour every morning (at eight o'clock for 
example) for visits on business? Might he make social visits to 
acquaintances and pubhc characters, not as President, but as a pri- 
vate individual? And then as to his table — under the preceding 
form of government the Presidents of Congress had been accus- 
tomed to give dinners twice a week to large parties of both sexes, 
and invitations had been so indiscriminate, that every one who 
could get introduced to the President, conceived he had a right to 
be invited to his board. The table was, therefore, always crowded 
and with a mixed company ; yet, as it was in the nature of things 
impracticable to invite everybody, as many offenses were given as 
if no table had been kept. Washington asked whether he might 
not invite, informally or otherwise, six, eight, or ten official char- 
acters, including in rotation the members of both Houses of Con- 
gress, to dine with him on the days fixed for receiving company, 
without exciting clamors in the rest of the community. Adams in 
his reply talked of chamberlains, aids-de-camp, masters of cere- 
mony, and evinced a high idea of the presidential office and the 
state with which it ought to be maintained. "The office," writes he, 
"by its legal authority defined in the constitution, has no equal in 
the world excepting those only which are held by crowned heads. 
The royal office in Poland is a mere shadow in comparison with 
it. The Dogeship in Venice, and the Stadtholdership in Holland, 
are not so much. Neither dignity nor authority can be supported 
in human minds, collected into nations or any great numbers, 
without a splendor and majesty in some degree proportioned to 
them. The sending and receiving ambassadors is one of the 
most splendid and important prerogatives of sovereigns, absolute 
or limited, and this in our constitution is wholly in the President. 
If the state and pomp essential to this great department are not in 
a good degree preserved, it will be in vain for America to hope for 
consideration with foreign powers." Hamilton considered it for 
the public good that the dignity of the presidential office should 
be supported, but advised that care should be taken to avoid so 
high a tone in the demeanor of the occupant, as to shock the 
prevalent notions of equality. The President, he thought, should 
hold a levee at a fixed time once a week, remain half an hour, 
converse cursorily on indifferent subjects with such persons as 
invited his attention, and then retire. He should accept no invi- 
tations; give formal entertainments twice, or at most, four times in the 
year; on the anniversaries of the declaration of independence, of 
his inauguration, of the treaty of alliance with France, and of the 
definitive treaty with Great Britain. On levee days he should give 
informal invitations to family dinners ; not more than six or eight 
to be asked at a time, and the civility to be confined essentially to 
members of the legislature, and other official characters: — the 
President never to remain long at table. The heads of departments 
should, of course, have access to the President on business. 



1789.I MRS. WASHINGTON IN NEW YORK. 555 

On the 17th of May, Mrs. Washington, accompanied by her 
grandchildren, Eleanor Custis and George Washington Parke 
Custis, set out from Mount Vernon in her travelling carriage with 
a small escort of horse, to join her husband at the seat of govern- 
ment. Throughout the journey she was greeted with public testi- 
monials of respect and affection. 

On the evening of Friday, May 29th, she had a general reception, 
which was attended by all that was distinguished in official and fash- 
ionable society. Henceforward there were similar receptions 
every Friday evening, from eight to ten o'clock, to which the 
families of all persons of respectabihty, native or foreign, had ac- 
cess, without special invitation; and at which the President was 
always present. These assemblages were as free from ostentation 
and restraint as the ordinary receptions of polite society ; yet the 
reader will find they were soon subject to invidious misrepresenta- 
tion; and cavilled at as "court-like levees" and "queenly drawing- 
rooms." The sanctity and quiet of Sunday were strictly observed 
by Washington. He attended church in the morning, and passed 
the afternoon alone in his closet. No visitors were admitted, excepting 
perhaps an intimate friend in the evening, which was spent by him 
in the bosom of his family. The household establishment was 
conducted on an ample and dignified scale, but without ostentation. 
Samuel Fraunces, once landlord of the city tavern in Broad street, 
where Washington took leave of the officers of the army in 1783, 
was now Steward of the presidential household. He was required 
to render a weekly statement of receipts and expenditures, and 
warned to guard against waste and extravagance. " We are 
happy to inform our readers," says Fenno's Gazette of the day, 
*• that the President is determined to pursue that system of regu- 
larity and economy in his household which has always marked his 
public and private life." 

Washington retained a mihtary air of command which had 
become habitual to him. At levees and drawing-rooms he some- 
times appeared cold and distant, but this was attributed by those 
who best knew him to the novelty of his position and his innate 
diffidence, which seemed to increase with the light which his 
renown shed about him. His reserve had nothing repulsive in it, 
and in social intercourse soon gave way to soldier-like frankness 
and cordiality. At all times his courtesy was genuine and benig- 
nant, and totally free from the stately condescension sometimes 
mistaken for politeness. Nothing we are told could surpass the 
noble grace with which he presided at a ceremonial dinner ; 
kindly attentive to all his guests, but particularly attentive to put 
those at their ease and in a favorable light, who appeared to be 
most diffident. As to Mrs. W^ashington, those who really knew 
her at the time, speak of her as free from pretension or affectation ; 
undazzled by her position, and discharging its duties with the 
truthful simplicity and real good-breeding of one accustomed to 
preside over a hospitable mansion in the "Ancient Dominion." 
She had her husband's predilection for private fife. In a letter to 
an intimate she writes: " It is owing to the kindness of our numer- 



550 LIFE Of WASHINGTON. 

ous friends in all quarters that my new and unwished for situation 
is not indeed a burden to me. When I was much younger, I 
should probably have enjoyed the innocent gayeties of life as 
much as most persons of my age ; but I had long since placed all 
the prospects of my future worldly happiness in the still enjoy- 
ments of the fireside at Mount Vernon. 1 little thought, when the 
war was finished, that any circumstances could possibly happen, 
which would call the General into public hfe again. I had antici- 
pated that from that moment we should be suffered to grow old 
together in solitude and tranquillity." 

Much has been said of Washington's equipages, when at New 
York, and of his having four, and sometimes six horses before his 
carriage, with servants and outriders in rich hvery. Such style we 
would premise was usual at the time both in England and the 
colonies, and had been occasionally maintained by the continental 
dignitaries, and by Governors of the several States, prior to the 
adoption of the new constitution. It was still prevalent, we are 
told, among the wealthy planters of the South, and sometimes 
adopted by "merchant princes," and rich individuals at the North. 
It does not appear, however, that Washington ever indulged in it 
through ostentation. When he repaired to the Hall of Congress, 
at his inauguration, he was drawn by a single pair of horses in a 
chariot presented for the occasion, on the panels of which were 
emblazoned the arms of the United Stales. Beside this modest 
equipage there was the ample family carriage which had been 
brought from Virginia. To this four horses were put when the 
family drove out into the country, the state of the roads in those 
days requiring it. For the same reason six horses were put to the 
same vehicle on journeys, and once on a state occasion. His 
favorite exercise when the weather permitted it was on horseback, 
accompanied by one or more of the members of his household, and 
he was noted always for being admirably mounted, and one of the 
best horsemen of his day. The first Presidential residence was at 
the junction of Pearl and Cherry streets, Franklin square. At the 
end of about a year, the President removed to the house on the 
west side of Broadway, near Rector street, afterwards known as 
Bunker's Mansion House. Both of these buildings have disap- 
peared, in the course of modern "improvements." 

Washington called unofficially upon the heads of depart- 
ments to furnish him with such reports in writing as would aid him 
in gaining a distinct idea of the state of public affairs. For this 
purpose also he had recourse to the pubhc archives, and proceeded 
to make notes of the foreign official correspondence from the close 
of the war until his inauguration. He was interrupted in his task 
by a virulent attack of anthrax, which for several days threatened 
mortification. The knowledge of his perilous condition spread 
alarm through the community ; he, however, remained unagitated. 
His medical adviser was Dr. Samuel Bard, of New York, an excel- 
lent physician and most estimable man, who attended him with 
unremitting assiduity. Being alone one day with the doctor, Wash- 
ington regarded him steadily, and asked his candid opinion as to 



1 789.] DEA TH OF WASHING TON'S MO THER. 557 

the probable result of his case. •' Do not flatter me with vain 
hopes," said he, with placid firmness; "I am not afraid to die, 
and therefore can bear the worst." The doctor expressed hope, 
but owned that he had apprehensions. "Whether to-night or 
twenty years hence, makes no difference," observed Washington. 
"I know that I am in the hands of a good Providence." His 
sufferings were intense, and his recovery was slow. For six weeks 
he was obliged to he on his right side ; but after a time he had his 
carriage so contrived that he could extend himself at full length in 
it, and take exercise in the open air. While rendered morbidly 
sensitive by bodily pain, he suffered deep annoyance from having 
one of his earliest nominations, that of Benjamin Fishburn, for the 
place of naval officer of the port of Savannah, rejected by the 
Senate. He was scrupulously conscientious in the exercise of the 
nominating power; scrutinizing the fitness of candidates; their 
comparative claims on account of public services and sacrifices, 
and with regard to the equable distribution of offices among the 
States ; in all which he governed himself solely by considerations 
for the public good. He was especially scrupulous where his own 
friends and connections were concerned. " So far as I know my 
own mind," would he say, " I would not be in the remotest degree 
influenced in making nominations by motives arising from the ties 
of family or blood." The Senate assigned no reason for rejecting 
his nomination of Mr. Fishburn. He sent in the name of another 
candidate ; but at the same time administered a temperate ai]d dig- 
nified rebuke. " Whatever may have been the reasons which 
induced your dissent," writes he to the Senate, " I am persuaded 
that they were such as you deemed sufficient. Permit me to sub- 
mit to your consideration, whether, on occasions where the propriety 
of nominations appears questionable to you, it would not be expe- 
dient to communicate that circumstance to me, and thereby avail 
yourselves of the information which led me to make them, and 
which I would with pleasure lay before you." He then proceeds 
to state, that Col. Fishburn had served under his own eye with 
reputation as an officer and a gentleman; had distinguished him- 
self at the storming of Stony Point ; had repeatedly been elected 
to the Assembly of Georgia as a representative from Chatham 
County, in which Savannah was situated ; had been elected by the 
officers of the militia of that county, Lieut. -Colonel of the mihtia of 
the district ; had been member of the Executive Council of the 
State and president of the same ; had been appointed by the coun- 
cil to an office which he actually held, in the port of Savannah, 
nearly similar to that for which Washington had nominated him. 
This was the only instance in which a nomination by Washington 
was rejected by the Senate. 

While yet in a state of convalescence, Washington received 
intelligence of the death of his mother, at Fredericksburg in Vir- 
ginia, on the 25th of August ; she was eighty-two years of age, and 
had for some time been sinking under an incurable malady. Mrs. 
Mary Washington is represented as a woman of strong plain sense, 
strict integrity, and an inflexible spirit of command. We have 



558 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

mentioned the exemplary manner in which she, a lone widow, had 
trained her httle flock in their childhood. The deference for her, 
then instilled into their minds, continued throughout life, and was 
manifested by Washington when at the height of his power and 
reputation. Eminently practical, she had thwarted his military 
aspirings when he was about to seek honor in the British navy. 
During his early and disastrous campaigns on the frontier, she 
would often shake her head and exclaim, "Ah, George had better 
have staid at home and cultivated his farm." Even his ultimate 
success and renown had never dazzled, however much they may 
have gratified her. When others congratulated her, and were enthu- 
siastic in his praise, she listened in silence, and would temperately 
reply that he had been a good son, and she believed he had done 
his duty as a man. 

Hitherto the new government had not been properly organized, 
but its several duties had been performed by the officers who had 
them in charge at the time of Washington's inauguration. It was 
not until the loth of Sept. that laws were passed instituting a de- 
partment of Foreign Affairs (afterwards termed Department of 
State), a Treasury department, and a department of War, and fix- 
ing their respective salaries. Sept. iith, Washington nominated 
Gen. Knox to the department of War, the duties of which that offi- 
cer had hitherto discharged. The post of Secretary of the Treas- 
ury was one of far greater importance at the present moment. It 
was a time of financial exigency. As yet no statistical account of 
the country had been attempted ; its fiscal resources were wholly 
unknown ; its credit was almost annihilated, for it was obliged to 
borrow money even to pay the interest of its debts. Washington 
nominated Alexander Hamilton as Secretary of the Treasury. His 
qualifications for the office were so well understood by the Senate 
that his nomination was confirmed on the same day on which it 
was made. On the 27th of Sept., he nominated Edmund Randolph 
as Attorney-General of the United States. Randolph had joined 
the army at Cambridge in 1775, and acted for a time as aide-de- 
camp to Washington in place of Mifidin. He had since gained 
experience in legislative business as member of Congress, from 
1779 to 1782, Governor of Virginia in 1786, and delegate to the 
convention in 1787. Dissatisfied with some of the provisions of 
the constitution as adopted, he had refused to sign it; but had 
afterwards supported it in the State convention of Virginia. As 
we recollect him many years afterwards, his appearance and 
address were dignified and prepossessing ; he had an expressive 
countenance, a beaming eye. and somewhat of the ore rottmdo in 
speaking. Randolph promptly accepted the nomination, but did 
rot take his seat in the cabinet until some months after Knox and 
Hamilton. John Jay, of New York, received the appointment of 
Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, and in a letter enclosing 
his commission, Washington expressed the singular pleasure he 
felt in addressing him "as the head of that department which 
must be considered as the keystone of our political fabric." Jay's 
associate judges were, John Rutledge of South Carolina, James 



1789.] THE DEPARTMENTS ORGANIZED. 559 

Wilson of Pennsylvania, William Gushing of Massachusetts, John 
Blair of Virginia, and James Iredell of North Carolina, 

On the 29th of September, Congress adjourned to the first 
Monday in January, It was inferior in eloquence and shining tal- 
ent to the first Congress of the revolution ; but it possessed men 
well fitted for the momentous work before them ; sober, solid, 
upright, and well informed. An admirable harmony had prevailed 
between the legislature and the executive, and the utmost decorum 
had reigned over the public dehberations. Fisher Ames, then a 
young man, who had acquired a brilliant reputation in Massachu- 
setts by the eloquence with which he had championed the new 
constitution in the convention of that important State, and who 
had recently been elected to Congress, speaks of it in the following 
terms: "I have never seen an assembly where so Httle art was 
used. If they wish to carry a point, it is directly declared and 
justified. Its merits and defects are plainly stated, not without 
sophistry and prejudice, but without management. There is no 
intrigue, no caucusing, little of clanning together, little asperity in 
debate, or personal bitterness out of the House." 

The cabinet was still incomplete ; the department of State was 
yet to be supplied with a head. Thomas Jefferson, who had so 
long filled the post of Minister Plenipotentiary at the Court of Ver- 
sailles, had recently solicited and obtained permission to return, for 
a few months, to the United States, for the purpose of placing his 
children among their friends in their native country, and of 
arranging his private affairs, which had suffered from his protracted 
absence. His political principles as a democratic republican, had 
been avowed at an early date in his draft of the Declaration of 
Independence, and subsequently in the successful war which he 
made upon the old cavalier traditions of his native State ; its laws 
of entails and primogeniture, and its church establishment, a war 
which broke down the hereditary fortunes and hereditary famihes, 
and put an end to the hereditary aristocracy of the Ancient 
Dominion. Being sent to Paris as minister plenipotentiary a year 
or two after the peace, he arrived there, as he says, " when the 
American revolution seemed to have awakened the thinking part 
of the French nation from the sleep of despotism in which they 
had been sunk." His house became the resort of Lafayette and 
others of the French officers who had served in the American revolu- 
tion. They .vere mostly, he said, young men little shackled by hab- 
its and prejudices, and had come back with new ideas and new im- 
pressions which began to be disseminated by the press and in conver- 
sation. Politics became the theme of all societies, male and female, 
and a very extensive and zealous party was formed which acquired 
the appellation of the Patriot Party, who, sensible of the abuses of 
the government under which they lived, sighed for occasions of re- 
forming it. This party, writes Jefferson. " comprehended all the 
honesty of the kingdom suflficiently at leisure to think, the men of 
letters, the easy bourgeois, the young nobility, partly from reflec- 
tion, partly from the mode." By this party Jefferson was consid- 
ered high authority from his republican principles and experience, 



56o LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

and his advice was continually sought in the great effort for polit- 
ical reform which was daily growing stronger and stronger. His 
absence in Europe had prevented his taking part in the debates 
on the new constitution, but he had exercised his influence through 
his correspondence. What he greatly objected to was the perpet- 
ual reeligibility of the President. "This, I fear," said he, "will 
make that an office for hfe, first, and then hereditary. I was much 
an enemy to monarchies before I came to Europe, and am ten 
thousand times more so since I have seen what they are. There is 
scarcely an evil known in these countries which may not be 
traced to tlieir king as its source, nor a good which is not derived 
from the small fibres of republicanism existing among them. I 
can further say, with safety, there is not a crowned head in Europe 
whose talents or merits would entitle him to be elected a vestry- 
man by the people of any parish in America." In short, such a 
horror had he imbibed of kingly rule, that, in a familiar letter to 
Col. Humphreys; who had been his Secretary of Legation, he gives 
il as the duty of our young Republic "to besiege the throne of 
heaven with eternal prayers to extirpate from creation this class of 
human lions, tigers, and mammoths, called kings, from whom, let 
him perish who does not say, 'Good Lord, deliver us!'" His 
political fervor occasionally tended to exaltation, but it was genu- 
ine. His sensitiveness had been awakened by the debates in Con- 
gress as to the title to be given to the President, whether or not he 
should be addressed as His Highness ; and had been reheved by 
the decision that he was to have no title but that of office, viz.: 
President of the United States. "I hope," said Jefferson, "the 
terms of Excellency, Honor, Worship, Esquire, will forever disap- 
pear from among us. I wish that of Mr. would follow them." 
With regard to the reeligibility of the President, his anxiety was 
quieted for the present, by the elevation of Washington to the 
Presidential chair. " Since the thing [reeligibility] is established," 
writes he, " I would wish it not to be altered during the life-time 
of our great leader, whose executive talents are superior to those, 
I believe, of any man in the world, and who, alone, by the author- 
ity of his name, and the confidence reposed in his perfect integrity, 
is fully qualified to put the new government so under way as to 
secure it against the efforts of opposition. But, having derived 
from our error all the good there was in it, I hope we shall 
correct it the moment we can no longer have the same name at 
the helm." 

Gouverneur ^lorris had arrived in Paris on the 3d of Feb., 1789, 
furnished by Washington with letters of introduction to persons in 
England, France, and Holland. His brilHant talents, ready con- 
versational powers, easy confidence in society, and striking aristo- 
cratical appearance, had given him great currency, especially in' 
the court party and among the ancient nobility; in which direction 
his tastes most inclined. In a letter to the French Minister, resid- 
ing in New York, Morris writes on the 23d of Feb., 1789: " Your 
nation is now in a most important crisis, and the great question — 
shall we hereafter have a constitution, or shall will continue to be 



1789.] REVOL UTION IN FRANCE. 561 

law — employs every mind and agitates every heart in France. 
Even voluptuousness itself rises from its couch of roses and looks 
anxiously abroad at the busy scene to which nothing can now be 
indifferent. A spirit which has been dormant for generations starts 
up and stares about, ignorant of the means of obtaining, but 
ardently desirous to possess its object — consequently active, ener- 
getic, easily led, but also easily, too easily misled. Such is the 
instinctive love of freedom which now grows warm in the bosom 
of your country." Morris, speaking of Jefferson at this juncture, 
observes, " He and I differ in our system of politics. He, with all 
the leaders of liberty here, is desirous of annihilating distinctions 
of order. How far such views may be right, respecting mankind 
in general, is, I think, extremely problematical. But, with respect 
to this nation, I am sure it is wrong and cannot eventuate well." 

The first news of the revolution in France, reached America in 
October, and was hailed by the great mass of the people with 
enthusiasm. Washington, in reply to his old comrade in arms, the 
Count de Rochambeau, observes: "I am persuaded I express the 
sentiments of my fellow-citizens, when I offer as an earnest prayer 
that it may terminate in the permanent honor and happiness 
of your government and people." But, in a reply of the same 
date (13th Oct.) to Gouverneur Morris, he shows that his circum- 
spect and cautious spirit was not to be hurried away by popular 
excitement. " The revolution which has been effected in France," 
writes he, "is of so wonderful a nature, that the mind can hardly 
realize the fact. If it ends as our last accounts of the 1st of August 
predict, that nation will be the most powerful and happy in Europe; 
but I fear, though it has gone triumphantly through the first par- 
oxysm, it is not the last it has to encounter before matters are 
finally settled. In a word, the revolution is of too great a magni- 
tude to be effected in so short a space, and with the loss of so little 
blood. To forbear running from one extreme to the other, is no 
easy matter: and should this be the case, rocks and shelves, not visible 
at present, may wreck the vessel and give a higher-toned despotism 
than the one which existed before." Hamilton, too, regarded the 
recent events in France with a mixture of pleasure and apprehen- 
sion. In a letter to^Lafayette he writes : "As a friend to mankind 
and to liberty, I rejoice in the efforts which you are making to 
estabhsh it, while I fear much for the final success of the attempts, 
for the fate of those who are engaged in it, and for the danger, in 
case of success, of innovations greater than will consist with the 
real felicity of your nation. I dread disagreements among those 
who are now united, about the nature of your constitution ; I dread 
the vehement character of your people, whom, I fear, you may 
find it more easy to bring on, than to keep within proper bounds 
after you have put them in motion. I dread the interested refrac- 
toriness of your nobles, who cannot all be gratified, and who may 
be unwilling to submit to the requisite sacrifices. And I dread the 
reveries of your philosophic politicians, who appear in the moment 
to have great influence, and who, being mere speculatists, may 
aim at more refinement than suits either with human nature or the 



562 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

composition of your nation." The opposite views and feelings of 
Hamilton and Jefferson, with regard to the French revolution, are the 
more interesting, as these eminent statesmen were soon to be brought 
face to face in the cabinet, the policy of which would be greatly 
influenced by French affairs; for it was at this time that Washing- 
ton wrote to Jefferson, offering him the situation of Secretary of 
State. 

Washington was on the eve of a journey through the Eastern 
States, with a view, as he said, to observe the situation of the 
country, and with a hope of perfectly reestablishing his health, 
■which a series of indispositions had much impaired. He set out 
from New. York on the 15th of October, travelling in his carriage 
with four horses, and accompanied by his official secretary. Major 
Jackson, and his private secretary, Mr. Lear. Though averse 
from public parade, he could not but be deeply affected and grati- 
fied at every step by the manifestations of a people's love. 
Wherever he came, all labor was suspended ; business neglected. 
The bells were rung, the guns were fired ; there were civic proces- 
sions and military parades and triumphal arches, and all classes 
poured forth to testify, in every possible manner, their gratitude and 
affection for the man whom they hailed as the Father of his 
Country; and well did his noble stature, his dignified demeanor, 
his matured years, and his benevolent aspect, suit that venerable 
appellation. 

In pursuance of the Governor's (the Hon. John Hancock's) ar- 
rangement, the militia, with General Brooks at their head, and Mr. 
Samuel Adams, the Lieut.-Governor, at the head of the Executive 
Council, met Washington at Cambridge, and escorted him with 
great ceremony to Boston. Being arrived at the grand entrance, 
which is over what is called "The Neck," the Lieut.-Governor 
and the Executive Council were brought to a sudden halt by ob- 
serving the municipal authorities drawn up in their carriages, in 
formal array, to pay civic honors to the city's guest. Here ensued 
a great question of etiquette. The Executive Council insisted on 
the right of t<lie Governor, as chief of the State, to receive and 
welcome its guest, at the entrance of its capital. " He should 
have met him at the boundary of the State over which he presides," 
replied Jhe others; "and there have welcomed him to the hospi- 
talities of the commonwealth. When the President is about to 
enter the iowji, it is the delegated right of the municipal aut/tori' 
///'J thereof to receive and bid him welcome." The contending 
parties remained drawn up resolutely in their carriages, while 
aides-de-camp and marshals were posting to and fro between them, 
carrying on a kind of diplomatic parley. In the meantime the 
President, and Major Jackson, his secretary, had mounted on 
horseback, and were waiting on the Neck to be conducted into the 
town. The day was unusually cold and murky. Washington be- 
came chilled and impatient, and when informed of the cause of 
the detention, "Is there no other avenue into the town.'*" de- 
manded he of Major Jackson. He was, in fact, on the point of 
wheeling about, when word was brought that the controversy was 



I789-] RECEPTION IN BOSTON. S63 

over, and that he would be received by the municipal authorities. 
The streets, the doors, the windows, the housetops, were crowded 
with well-dressed people of both sexes. " He was on horseback," 
says an observer, "dressed in his old continental uniform, with 
his hat off. He did not bow to the spectators as he passed, but 
sat on his horse with a calm, dignified air. He dismounted at the 
old State House, now City Hall, and came out on a temporary 
balcony at the west end ; a long procession passed before him, 
whose salutations he occasionally returned. These and other cere- 
monials being over, the Lieutenant-Governor and Council, accom- 
panied by the Vice President, conducted Washington to his lodg- 
ings, where they took leave of him." Various addresses were 
made to him in the course of his visit, but none that reached his 
heart more directly than that of his old companions in arms, the 
Cincinnati Society of Massachusetts, who hailed him as "their 
glorious leader in war, their illustrious example in peace." "Dear, 
indeed," said he, in reply, "is the occasion which restores an 
intercourse with my associates in prosperous and adverse fortune ; 
and enhanced are the triumphs of peace participated with those 
whose virtue and valor so largely contributed to procure them. To 
that virtue and valor your country has confessed her obligations. 
Be mine the grateful task to add to the testimony of a connection 
which it was my pride to own in the field, and is now my happi- 
ness to acknowledge in the enjoyments of peace and freedom." 
After remaining in Boston for a week, feted in the most hospitable 
manner, he departed on Thursday, October 29th, at eight o'clock. 
The escort was not punctual, but overtook him on the road. His 
journey eastward terminated at Portsmouth, whence he turned his 
face homeward by a middle route through the interior of the 
country to Hartford, and thence to New York, where he arrived be- 
tween two and three o'clock on the 13th of November. 

Not long after Washington's return. Col. John Trumbull, his aide- 
de-camp in former days, now an historical painter of eminence, 
arrived from Europe, where he had been successfully prosecuting 
his art and preparing for his grand pictures, illustrative of our 
revolutionary history. At Mr. Jefferson's house in Paris, he had 
been enabled to sketch from the life the portraits of several of the 
French officers who had been present at the capture of CornwaSis, 
and were now among the popular agitators of France. He had 
renewed his military acquaintance with Lafayette ; witnessed the 
outbreak of the revolution ; the storming of the Bastille ; and 
attended the Marquis on one occasion, when the latter succeeded 
in calming the riotous excesses of a mob, principally workmen, in 
the Faubourg St. Antoine. 

Mr. Jefferson had embarked for America, and had already 
landed at Norfolk in Virginia. Washington immediately for- 
warded to him his commission as Secretary of State, requesting to 
know his determination on the subject. Jefferson, in reply, ex- 
pressed himself flattered by the nomination, but dubious of his 
being equal to its extensive and various duties, while, on the other 
hand, he felt familiar with the duties of his present office. " But 



564 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

it is not for an individual to choose his path," said he. "You 
are to marshal us as may best be for the pubhc good. Signify to 
me, by another hne, your ultimate wish, and I shall conform to if 
cordially. If it should be to remain in New York, my chief comr 
fort will be to work under your eye ; my only shelter the authority 
of your name and the wisdom of measures to be dictated by you 
and implicitly executed by me." Washington replied that he con- 
sidered the successful administration of the general government an 
object of almost infinite consequence to the present and future 
happiness of the citizens of the United States ; that he regarded the 
office of Secretary for the department of State very important, and 
that he knew of no person who, in his judgment, could better exe- 
cute the duties of it than himself. Jefferson accordingly accepted 
the nomination. 

Congress reassembled on the 4th of January (1790), but a 
quorum of the two Houses was not present until the 8th, when the 
session was opened by Washington in form, with an address deliv- 
ered before them in the Senate chamber. Among the most im- 
portant objects suggested in the address for the deliberation of 
Congress, were provisions for national defence ; provisions for 
facilitating intercourse with foreign nations, and defraying expenses 
of diplomatic agents ; laws for the naturalization of foreigners ; 
uniformity in the currency, weights, and measures of the United 
States; facilities for the advancement of commerce, agriculture, 
and manufactures ; attention to the post-office and post-roads ; 
measures for the promotion of science and literature, and for the 
support of public credit. The government was now organized, 
apparently, to the satisfaction of all parties; but its efficiency 
would essentially depend on the success of a measure which 
Washington had pledged himself to institute, and which was yet 
to be tried; namely, a system of finance adapted to revive the 
national credit, and place the public debt in a condition to be paid 
off. At the close of the war the debt amounted to forty-two mil- 
lions of dollars ; but so little had the country been able to fulfil its 
engagements, owing to the want of a sovereign legislature having 
the sole and exclusive power of laying duties upon imports, and 
thus providing adequate resources, that the debt had swollen, 
through arrears of interest, to upwards of fifty-four millions. Of 
this amount nearly eight millions were due to France, betw^een 
three and four millions to private lenders in Holland, and about 
two hundred and fifty thousand in Spain ; making, altogether, 
nearly twelve millions due abroad. The debt contracted at home 
amounted to upwards of forty-two millions, and was due, originally, 
to officers and soldiers of the revolutionary war, who had risked 
their lives for the cause ; farmers who had furnished supplies for 
the public service, or whose property had been assumed for it ; 
capitahsts who, in critical periods of the war, had adventured 
their fortunes in support of their country's independence. The 
domestic debt, therefore, could not have had a more sacred and 
patriotic origin ; but in the long delay of national justice, the paper 
which represented these outstanding claims, had sunk to less than 



lygo.] THE NATIONAL DEBT FUNDED. 565 

a sixth of its nominal value, and the larger portion of it had been 
parted with at that depreciated rate, either in the course of trade, 
or to speculative purchasers, who were willing to take the risk of 
eventual payment. In public newspapers, however, and in pri- 
vate circles, the propriety of a discrimination between the assignees 
and the original holders of the public securities, was freely dis- 
cussed. Beside the foreign and domestic debt of the federal gov- 
ernment, the States, individually, were involved in liabilities con- 
tracted for the common cause, to an aggregate amount of about 
twenty-five millions of dollars ; of which more than one-half was 
due from three of them ; Massachusetts and South Carolina each 
owing more than five milhons, and Virginia more than three and a 
half. The reputation and the well-being of the government were, 
therefore, at stake upon the issue of some plan to retrieve the na- 
tional credit, and establish it upon a firm and secure foundation. 
The Secretary of the Treasury (Mr. Hamilton), had prepared such a 
plan. He asserted the propriety of paying the foreign debt accord- 
ing to its terms. He asserted, also, the equal validity of the origi- 
nal claims of the American creditors of the government, whether 
those creditors were the original holders of its certificates or sub- 
sequent purchasers of them at a depreciated value. The idea of 
any distinction between them, which some were inclined to ad- 
vance, he repudiated as alike unjust, impolitic, and impracticable. 
He urged, moreover, the assumption, by the general government, 
of the separate debts of the States, contracted for the common 
cause, and that a like provision should be made for thdr payment 
as for the payment of those of the Union. They were all con- 
tracted in the struggle for national independence, not for the inde- 
pendence of any particular part. No more money would be re- 
quired for their discharge as federal, than as State debts. Money 
could be raised more readily by the federal goverment than by the 
States, and all clashing and jealousy between State and federal 
debtors would thus be prevented. He recommended, therefore, 
that the entire mass of debt be funded ; the Union made responsi- 
ble for it, and taxes imposed for its hquidation. He suggested, 
moreover, the expediency, for the greater security of the debt and 
punctuahty in the payment of interest, that the domestic creditors 
submit to an abatement of accruing interest. The plan was re- 
ported to the House by Mr. Hamilton, the 14th of January, but 
did not undergo consideration until the 8th of February, when it 
was opposed with great earnestness, especially the point of assum- 
ing the State debts, as tending to consohdation, as giving an undue 
influence to the general government, and as being of doubtful 
constitutionality. The measure, however, passed, in Committee 
of the Whole, on the 9th of March, by a vote of 31 to 26. The 
funding of the State debts was supposed to benefit, materially, the 
Northern States, in which was the entire capital of the country ; 
yet South Carolina voted for the assumption. Opinions were hon- 
estly divided on the subject. The great majority were aiming to 
do their duty — to do what was right; but their disagreement was 
the result of real difficulties incident to the intricate and compli- 



566 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

cated problem with which they had to deal. Washington had lit- 
tle sympathy with these sectional jealousies; and the noble lan- 
guage in which he rebukes them, cannot be too largely cited. " I 
am sorry," observes he, "such jealousies should be gaining 
ground and poisoning the minds of the southern people ; but, 
admit the fact which is alleged as the cause of them, and give it 
full scope, does it amount to more than was known to every man 
of information before, at, and since the adoption of the Constitu- 
tion? Was it not always beheved that there are some points 
which peculiarly interest the Eastern States? Are there not other 
points which equally concern the Southern States? If these States 
are less tenacious of their interest, or if, while the Eastern move 
in a solid phalanx to effect their views, the Southern are always 
divided, which of the two is most to be blamed? That there is a 
diversity of interests in the Union, none has denied. That this is 
the case, also, in every State, is equally certain ; and that it even 
extends to the counties of individual States, can be as readily 
proved. To constitute a dispute, there must be two parties. To 
understand it well, both parties, and all the circumstances must be 
fully heard ; and, to accommodate differences, temper and mutual 
forbearance are requisite. Common danger brought the States 
into confederacy, and on the union our safety and importance de- 
pend. A spirit of accommodation was the basis of the present 
Constitution. Can it be expected, then, that the southern or east- 
ern parts of the empire will succeed in all their measures? Cer- 
tainly not. But I will readily grant that more points will be car- 
ried by the latter than the former, and for the reason that in all 
great national questions, they move in unison, whilst the others are 
divided. I will ask another question, of the highest magnitude in 
my mind, to wit, if the Eastern and Northern States are dangerous 
in union, will they be less in separation? If self-interest is their gov- 
erning principle, will it forsake them, or be restrained by such an 
event? I hardly think it would. Then, independently of other 
considerations, what would Virginia, and such other States as 
might be inclined to join her, gain by a separation? Would they 
not, most unquestionably, be the weaker party?" 

At this juncture (March 21st), Mr. Jefferson arrived in New 
York to undertake the duties of the Department of State. He 
had just been in Virginia, where the forms and ceremonials adopted 
at the seat of our government, were subjects of cavil and sneer ; 
where it was reported that Washington affected a monarchical style 
in his official intercourse; that he held court-like levees, and Mrs. 
Washington "queenly drawing-rooms," at which none but the aris- 
tocracy were admitted, that the manners of both were haughty, 
and their personal habits reserved and exclusive. Jefferson looked 
round him with an apprehensive eye, and appears to have seen 
something to startle him at every turn. We give, from his private 
correspondence, his own account of his impressions. "Being 
fresh from the French revolution, while in its first and pure stage, 
and, consequently, somewhat whetted up in my own repubhcan 
principles, I found a state of things in the general society of the 



I790.J REPUBLICANISM VERSUS MONARCHY. 567 

place, which I could not have supposed possible. I was aston- 
ished to find the general prevalence of monarchical sentiments, 
insomuch, that in maintaining those of republicanism, I had 
always the whole company on my hands, never scarcely finding 
among tliem a single co-advocate in that argument, unless some 
old member of Congress happened to be present. The furthest 
that any one would go in support of the republican features of our 
new government, would be to say, 'the present constitution is well 
as a beginning, and may be allowed a fair trial, but it is, in fact, 
only a stepping stone to something better.'" This picture, given 
under excitement and with preconceived notions, is probably over- 
charged ; but, allowing it to be true, we can hardly wonder at it, 
viewed in connection with the place and times. New York, during 
the session of Congress, was the gathering place of politicians of 
every party. The revolution of France had made the forms of gov- 
ernment once more the usual topics of conversation, and revived the 
conflicts of opinions on the subject. As yet, the history of the world 
had furnished no favorable examples of popular government ; specu- 
lative writers in England had contended that no government more 
popular than their own, was consistent with either internal tran- 
quillity, the supremacy of the laws, or a great extent of empire. Our 
republic was ten times larger than any that had yet existed. Jay, one 
of the calmest thinkers of the Union, expressed himself dubiously on 
the subject. " Whether any people could long govern themselves in 
an equal, uniform, and orderly manner, was a question of vital im- 
portance to the cause of liberty, but a question which, like others, 
whose solution depends on facts, could only be determined by Ex- 
perience — now, as yet, there had been very few opportunities of 
making the experiment." Alexander Hamilton, though pledged 
and sincerely disposed to support the republican form, with regard 
to our country, preferred, theoretically , a monarchical form; and, 
being frank of speech, and, as Gouverneur Morris writes, "prone 
to mount his hobby," may have spoken openly in favor of that 
form as suitable to France ; and as his admirers took their creed 
from him, opinions of the kind may have been uttered pretty freely 
at dinner-tables. These, however, which so much surprised and 
shocked Mr. Jefferson, were probably merely speculative opinions, 
broached in unguarded hours, with no sinister design, by men who 
had no thought of paving the way for a monarchy. 

The question of the assumption of the State debts was resumed 
in Congress on the 29th of March. On the 12th of April, when 
the question to commit was taken, there was a majority of two 
against the assumption. The decision of Congress, however, was 
ultimately in favor of it. A specific sum was assumed (^21,500,000), 
and this was distributed among the States in specific portions. 
Thus modified, it passed the Senate, July 22d, by the close vote 
of fourteen to twelve ; and the House, July 24th, by thirty-four to 
twenty-eight, "after having," says Washington, •• been agitated 
with a warmth and intemperance, with prolixity and threats which, 
it is to be feared, have lessened the dignity of Congress and de- 
creased the respect once entertained for it." The question about 



568 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the permanent seat of government, was now compromised. It 
was agreed that Congress should continue for ten years to hold 
its sessions at Philadelphia ; during which time the public build, 
ings should be erected at some place on the Potomac, to which the 
government should remove at the expiration of the above term. A 
territory, ten miles square, selected for the purpose on the confines 
of Maryland and Virginia, was ceded by those States to the United 
States, and subsequently designated as the District of Columbia. 
One of the last acts of the Executive during the session was the 
conclusion of a treaty of peace and friendship with the Creek 
nation of Indians, represented at New York by Mr. M'Gillivray, 
and thirty of the chiefs and head men. By this treaty (signed 
August 7th), an extensive territory, claimed by Georgia, was re- 
linquished greatly to the discontent of that State ; being considered 
by it an unjustifiable abandonment of its rights and interests. 
Congress adjourned on the 12th of August. Jefferson, com- 
menting on the discord that had prevailed for a time among the 
members, observes, that in the latter part of the session, they had 
reacquired the harmony which had always distinguished their pro- 
ceedings before the introduction of the two disagreeable subjects 
of the Assumption and the Residence: "these," said he, "really 
threatened, at one time, a separation of the legislature sine die.'' 

Washington, free himself from all jealousy of the talents and 
popularity of others, and solely actuated by zeal for the public 
good, had sought the ablest men to assist him in his arduous task, 
and supposed them influenced by the same unselfish spirit. In a 
letter 10 Lafayette, he writes, " Many of your old acquaintances and 
friends are concerned with me in the administration of this govern • 
ment. By having Mr. Jefferson at the head of the department of 
State, Mr. Jay of the judiciary, Hamilton of the treasury, and 
Knox of war, I feel myself supported by able coadjutors who har- 
monize extremely well together." Yet, at this very moment, a 
lurking spirit of rivalry between Jefferson and Hamilton was 
already existing and daily gaining strength. Jefferson, who con- 
sidered Hamilton a monarchist in his principles, regarded all his 
financial schemes with suspicion, as intended to strengthen the in- 
fluence of the treasury, and make its chief the master of every 
vote in the legislature, "which might give to the government the 
direction suited to his political views." 

The attention of Washington was often called off from affairs at 
home to affairs in France; and to the conspicuous and perilous 
part which his friend and disciple Lafayette, was playing in the 
great revolutionary drama. "Your friend, the Marquis de Lafay- 
ette," writes the Marquis de la Luzerne, " finds himself at the head 
of the revolution ; and, indeed, it is a very fortunate circumstance 
for the State that he is, but very little so for himself. Never has 
any man been placed in a more critical situation." Lafayette 
looked back to the time when, in his early campaigns in America, 
he had shared Washington's councils, bivouacked with him on the 
field of battle, and been benefitted by his guardian wisdom in every 
emergency. " How often, my well-beloved general," writes he 



I790.] THE KEY OF THE BASTILLE. 569 

(January , 1790), "have I regretted your sage councils and 
friendly support. We have advanced in the career of the revolu- 
tion without the vessel of State being wrecked against the rocks of 
aristocracy or faction. At present, that which existed has been 
destroyed ; a new political edifice is forming ; without being per- 
fect, it is sufficient to assure liberty. The result will, I hope, be 
happy for my country and for humanity. One perceives the 
germs of liberty in other parts of Europe. I will encourage their 
development by all the means in my power." Far removed as 
Washington was from the theatre of political action, and but little 
acquainted with many of the minute circumstances which might in- 
fluence important decisions, he was cautious in hazarding opinions 
in his replies to his French correspondents. Indeed, the whole 
revolutionary movement appeared to him so extraordinary in its 
commencement, so wonderful in its progress, and so stupendous in 
its possible consequences, that he declared himself almost lost in 
the contemplation of it. " Of one thing you may rest perfectly 
assured," writes he to the Marquis de la Luzerne, " that no one 
can wish more sincerely for the prosperity of the French nation 
than I do. Nor is it without the most sensible pleasure that I learn 
that our friend, the Marquis de Lafayette, has, in acting the ardu- 
ous part which has fallen to his share, conducted himself with so 
much wisdom and apparently with such general satisfaction." 
In March, 1790, Lafayette writes: "Permit me, my dear gen- 
eral, to offer you a picture representing the Bastille, such as it was 
some days after I had given orders for its demolition. I make you 
homage, also, of the principal key of this fortress of despotism. It 
is a tribute which I owe you, as son to my adopted father, as aide- 
de-camp to my general, as missionary of liberty to its patriarch." 
Thomas Paine was to have been the bearer of the key, but he for- 
warded it to Washington from London. "I feel myself happy," 
writes he, "in being the person through whom the Marquis has 
conveyed this early trophy of the spoils of despotism, and the first 
ripe fruits of American principles, transplanted into Europe, to his 
great master and patron. That the principles of America opened 
the Bastille is not to be doubted, and, therefore, the key comes to 
the right place." Washington received the key with reverence, as 
a "token of the victory gained by liberty over despotism ;" and 
it is still preserved at Mount Vernon, as a precious historical relic. 
While his regard for the French nation made him rejoice in the 
progress of the political reform which he considered essential to its 
welfare, he felt a generous solicitude for the personal safety of the 
youthful monarch, who had befriended America in its time of 
need. " Happy am I, my good friend," writes he to the Marquis, 
(August 11), "that, amidst all the tremendous tempests which 
have assailed your political ship, you have had address and forti- 
tude enough to steer her hitherto safely through the quicksands 
and rocks which threatened instant destruction on every side ; and 
that your young king, in all things, seems so well disposed to con- 
form to the wishes of the nation. In such an important, such a 
hazardous voyage, when everything dear and sacred is embarked. 



570 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

you know full well, my best wishes have never left you for a 
moment. Yet I will avow, that the accounts we received through 
the English papers, which were sometimes our only channels of 
information, caused our fears of failure almost to exceed our ex- 
pectations of success." Those fears were not chimerical; for, at 
the very time he penned this letter, the Jacobin club of Paris had 
already sent forth ramifications throughout France; corresponding 
clubs were springing up by hundreds in the provinces, and every- 
thing was hurrying forward to a violent catastrophe. 

Washington, accompanied by Mr. Jefferson, departed by water 
(August 14) on a visit to Rhode Island, which State had recently 
acceded to the Union. He was cordially welcomed by the inhabi- 
tants, and after an absence of ten days, he departed for his be- 
loved Mount Vernon, there to cast off public cares as much as 
possible, and enjoy the pleasures of the country during the residue 
of the recess of Congress. 

Frequent depredations had of late been made on our frontier 
settlements by what Washington termed "certain banditti of 
Indians" from the north-west side of the Ohio. Some of our peo- 
ple had been massacred and others carried into deplorable cap- 
tivity. Strict justice and equity had always formed the basis of 
W^ashington's dealings with the Indian tribes, and he had endeav- 
ored to convince them that such was the general policy of our gov- 
ernment ; but his efforts were often thwarted by the conduct of our 
own people ; the encroachments of land speculators and the law- 
less conduct of our frontiersmen ; and jealousies thus excited were 
fomented by the intrigues of foreign agents. The Indians of the 
Wabash and Miami rivers, who were the present aggressors, were 
numerous, warlike, and not deficient in disciphne. They were 
well armed also, obtaining weapons and ammunition from the posts 
which the British still retained within the territories of the United 
States, contrary to the treaty of peace. An act had been provided 
for emergencies, by which the President was empowered to 
call out the militia for the protection of the frontier ; this act 
Washington put in force in the interval of Congress ; and under 
it an expedition was set on foot, which began its march on 
the 30th of Sept. from Fort Washington (which stood on the 
site of the present city of Cincinnati). Brig. Gen. Harmer, a vet- 
eran of the Revolution, led the expedition, having under him 320 
regulars, with militia detachments from Pennsylvania and Virginia 
(or Kentucky), making in all 1453 men. After a march of seven- 
teen days, they approached the principal village of the Miamis. 
The Indians did not await an attack, but set fire to the village and 
fled to the woods. The destruction of the place, with that of large 
quantities of provisions, was completed. An Indian trail being 
discovered, Col. Hardin, a continental officer who commanded the 
Kentucky militia, was detached to follow it, at the head of one 
hundred and fifty of his men, and about thirty regulars, under 
Capt. Armstrong and Ensign Hartshorn. They followed the trail 
for about six miles, and were crossing a plain covered by thickets, 
when suddenly there were volleys of rifles on each side, from un- 



i;9o.l ^-47? WITH THE INDIANS. 571 

seen marksmen, accompanied by the horrid war-whoop. The trail 
had, in fact, decoyed them into an ambush of seven hundred sav- 
ages, under the famous warrior Little Turtle. The militia fled, 
without firing a musket. The savages now turned upon the little 
handful of regulars, who stood their ground, and made a brave 
resistance with the bayonet until all were slain, excepting Capt. 
Armstrong, Ensign Hartshorn, and five privates. The ensign 
was saved by falling behind a log, which screened him from his 
pursuers. Annstrong plunged into a swamp, where he sank up to 
his neck, and remained for several hours of the night within two 
hundred yards of the field of action, a spectator of the war-dance 
of the savages over the slain. The two officers who escaped thus 
narrowly, found their way back to the camp about six miles dis- 
tant. The army effected the main purpose of the expedition in 
laying waste the Indian villages and destroying their winter's stock 
of provisions, after which it commenced its march back to Fort 
Washington. On the 21st of Oct., when it was halted about ten 
miles to the west of Chillicothe, Col. Hardin was detached with a 
body of militia and sixty regulars, under Major Willys, and had 
another encounter with Little Turtle and his braves. It was a 
bloody battle, fought well on both sides. The militia behaved 
bravely, and lost many men and officers, as did the regulars ; 
Major Willys fell at the commencement of the action. Col. Har-t 
din was at length compelled to retreat, leaving the dead and 
wounded in the hands of the enemy. The expedition made its 
way back to Fort Washington, on the banks of the Ohio. 

Congress reassembled, according to adjournment, on the first 
Monday in Dec, at Philadelphia. A house belonging to Mr. 
Robert Morris, the financier, had been hired by Washington for 
his residence, and at his request, had undergone additions and alter- 
ations "in a plain and neat, and not by any means in an extrava- 
gant style." His secretary, Mr. Lear, had made every prepara- 
tion for his arrival and accommodation, and among other things, 
had spoken of the rich and elegant style in which the state car- 
riage was fitted up. " I had rather have heard," replied Wash- 
ington, "that my repaired coach was plain and elegant than rich 
and elegant." Congress, at its opening, was chiefly occupied in 
financial arrangements. According to the statement of the Secre- 
tars of the Treasury, an additional annual revenue of ^826,000 
would be required, principally to meet the additional charges 
arising from the assumption of the State debts. He proposed to raise 
it by an increase of the impost on foreign distilled spirits, and a 
tax by way of excise on spirits distilled at home. An impost and 
Excise bill was accordingly introduced into Congress, and finally 
carried through the House. Mr. Hamilton, in his former Treasury 
report, had recommended the establishment of a National Bank ; 
he now, in a special report, urged the policy of the measure. A 
bill, introduced in conformity with his views, was passed in the 
Senate, but vehemently opposed in the House; partly on 
considerations of policy ; but chiefly on the ground of con- 
stitutionality. On one side it was denied that the constitution 



572 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

had given to Congress the power of incorporation ; on the 
other side it was insisted that such power was incident to the 
power vested in Congress for raising money. The bill, after pass- 
ing the House of Representatives by a majority of nineteen votes, 
came before the executive for his approval. Washington was fully 
ahve to the magnitude of the question and the interest felt in it by 
the opposing parties. The cabinet was divided on it. Jefferson 
and Randolph denied its constitutionality, Hamilton and Knox 
maintained it. Washington gave his sanction to the act, and the 
bill was carried into effect. 

The objection of Jefferson to a bank was not merely on constitu- 
tional grounds. In his subsequent writings he avows himself 
opposed to banks, as introducing a paper instead of a cash system 
— raising up a moneyed aristocracy, and abandoning the public to 
the discretion of avarice and swindlers. Paper money might have 
some advantages, but its abuses were inevitable, and by breaking 
up the measure of value, it made a lottery of all private property. 
These objections he maintained to his dying day. Washington, he 
affirmed, was not aware ofthedriftor effect of Hamilton's schemes. 
" Unversed in financial projects and calcalations and budgets, his 
approbation of them was bottomed on his confidence in the man." 
Washington, however, was not prone to be swayed in his judg- 
nients by blind partiality. When he distrusted his own knowledge 
in regard to any important measure, he asked the written opinions 
of those of his council who he thought were better informed, and 
examined and weighed them, and put them to the test of his almost 
unfailing sagacity. His confidence in Hamilton's talents, informa- 
tion, and integrity had led him to seek his counsels ; but his appro- 
bation of those counsels \vas bottomed on a careful investigation 
of them. It was the same in regard to the counsels of Jefferson ; 
they were received with great deference, but always deliberately 
and scrupulously weighed. The opposite policy of these rival 
statesmen brought them into incessant colhsion. " Hamilton and 
myself," writes Jefferson, "were daily pitted in the cabinet hke 
two cocks." The warm-hearted Knox always sided with his old 
companion in arms, whose talents he revered. He is often noticed 
with a disparaging sneer by Jefferson, in consequence. Randolph 
commonly adhered to the latter. Washington's calm and massive 
intellect overruled any occasional discord. His poHcy with regard 
to his constitutional advisers has been happily estimated by R. M. 
T. Hunter, of Virginia. " He sought no unit cabinet, according 
to the set phrase of succeeding times. He asked no suppression 
of sentiment, no concealment of opinion ; he exhibited no mean 
jealousy of high talent in others. He gathered around him the 
greatest public men of that day, and some of them to be ranked 
with the greatest of any day. He did not leave Jefferson and 
Hamilton without the cabinet, to shake, perhaps, the whole fabric 
of government in their fierce wars and rivalries, but he took them 
within, where he himself might arbitrate their disputes as they 
arose, and turn to the best account for the country their sugges- 
tions as they were made." In the meantime two pohtical parties 



I790.] WASHINGTON'S INDIAN POLICY. 573 

were forming throughout the Union, under the adverse standards 
of these statesmen. Both had the good of the country at heart, 
but differed as to the policy by which it was to be secured. The 
FederaHsts, who looked up to Hamilton as their model, were i|i 
favor of strengthening the general government so as to give it 
weight and dignity abroad and efficiency at home ; to guard it 
against the encroachments of the individual States and a general 
tendency to anarchy. The other party, known as republicans or 
democrats, and taking Mr. Jefferson's view of affairs, saw in all 
the measures advocated by the Federalists, an intention to con- 
vert the Federal into a great central or consolidated government, 
preparatory to a change from a republic to a monarchy. 

The particulars of General Harmer's expedition against the 
Indians, when reported to Congress, gave great dissatisfaction. 
Further troubles in that quarter were apprehended, for the Miamis 
were said to be less disheartened by the ravage of their villages 
than exultant at the successful ambuscades of Little Turtle. Three 
Seneca chiefs, Cornplanter, Half Town, and Great Tree, being at 
the seat of government on business of their own nation, offered to 
visit these belligerent tribes, andpersuade them to bury the hatchet. 
Washington, in a set speech, encouraged them in the undertaking, 
"By this humane measure," said he, "you will render these mis- 
taken people a great service, and probably prevent their being 
swept off of the face of the earth. The United States require only 
that these people should demean themselves peaceably. But they 
may be assured that the United States are able, and will most cer- 
tainly punish them severely for all their robberies and murders." 
He had always been earnest in his desire to civilize the savages, 
but had little faith in the expedient of sending their young men to 
our colleges ; the true, means, he thought, was to introduce the arts 
and habits of husbandry among them. 

In the course of the present session, Congress received and 
granted the applications of Kentucky and Vermont for admission 
into the Union, the former after August, 1792; the latter imme- 
diately. On the 3d of March the term of this first Congress expired, 
Washington, after reciting the various important measures that had 
been effected, testified to the great harmony and cordiality which 
had prevailed. As the Indians on the north-west side of the Ohio 
still continued their hostilities, one of the last measures of Congress 
had been an act to augment the military establishments, and to 
place in the hands of the executive more ample means for the pro- 
tection of the frontiers. A new expedition against the belligerent 
tribes had, in consequence, been projected. Gen. St. Clair, actu- 
ally governor of the territory west of the Ohio, was appoiiited com- 
mander-in-chief of the forces to be employed. Washington had 
been deeply chagrined by the mortifying disasters of Gen. Har- 
mer's expedition to the Wabash. In taking leave of his old mili- 
tary comrade, St. Clair, he wished him success and honor, but 
gave him a solemn warning. "You have your instructions from 
the Secretary of War. I had a strict eye to them, and will add but 
one word — Beware of a surprise ! You know how the Indians fight. 



574 LTrE OF WASHINGTON. 

I repeat it — Beware of a surprise ! '* With these warning words 
sounding in his ear, St. Clair departed. 

In the month of March Washington set out on a tour through 
the Southern States ; travelling with one set of horses and making 
occasional halts. The route was by Fredericksburg, Richmond, 
Wilmington (N. C.) and Charleston to Savannah ; thence to 
Augusta, Columbia, and the interior towns of North Carolina and 
Virginia, comprising a journey of 1887 miles ; all which he accom- 
plished without any interruption from sickness, bad weather, or 
any untoward accident. "Indeed," writes he, "so highly were 
we favored that we arrived at each place where I proposed to make 
any halt, on the very day I fixed upon before we set out. The same 
horses performed the whole tour ; and, although much reduced in 
flesh, kept up their full spirits to the last day." He returned to 
Philadelphia on the 6th of July, much pleased with his tour. It had 
enabled him, he said, to see, with his own eyes, the situation of the 
country, and to learn more accurately the disposition of the people, 
than he could have done from any verbal information. " Every 
day's experience of the government of the United States," writes 
he to David Humphreys, "seems to confirm its estabhshment, 
and to render it more popular. A ready acquiescence in the laws 
made under it shows, in a strong light, the confidence which the 
people have in their representatives, and in the upright views of 
those who administer the government. Our public credit stands 
on that ground, which, three years ago, it would have been mad- 
ness to have foretold. The astonishing rapidity with which the newly 
instituted bank was filled, gives an unexampled proof of the 
resources of our countrymen and their confidence in public 
measures. On the first day of opening the subscription the whole 
number of shares (twenty thousand) were taken up in one hour, 
and application made for upwards of four thousand shares more 
than were granted by the institution, besides many others that 
were coming in from various quarters." — Letters from Gouverneur 
Morris gave a gloomy picture of French affairs. " This unhappy 
country," writes he to Washington, " bewildered in pursuit of met- 
aphysical whimsies, presents to our moral view a mighty ruin. 
Like the remi>ants of ancient magnificence, we admire the archi- 
tecture of the temple, while we detest the false god to whom it was 
dedicated. Daws and ravens, and the birds of night, now build 
their nests in its niches. The sovereign, humbled to the level of a 
beggar's pity, without resources, without authority, without a friend. 
The Assembly at once a master and a slave, new in power, wild 
in theory, raw in practice. It engrosses all functions, though inca- 
pable of exercising any, and has taken from this fierce, ferocious 
people, every restraint of religion and of respect. Lafayette has 
hitherto acted a splendid part. The king obeys but detests him. 
fie obeys because he fears. Whoever possesses the royal per- 
son may do whatever he pleases with the royal charac- 
ter and authority. Hence, it happens that the ministers are of 
Lafayette's appointment." Lafayette's letters depict the troubles 
of a patriot leader in the stormy time of a revolution : a leader 



I79I.] THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 575 

warm, generous, honest, impulsive, but not far-seeing. " I con* 
tinue to be forever tossed about on an ocean of factions and com- 
motions of every kind. Unfortunately, the people have much bet* 
ter learnt how to overturn despotism, than to comprehend the duty 
of submission to law. It is to you, my dear general, the patriarch 
and generalissimo of the promoters of universal liberty, that I ought 
always to render a faithful account of the conduct of your aide-de- 
camp in the service of this grand cause." Sympathy with the 
popular cause prevailed with a part of Washington's cabinet. 
Jefferson was ardent in his wishes that the revolution might be 
established. He felt, he said, that the permanence of our own 
revolution leaned, in some degree, on that of France ; that a failure 
there would be a powerful argument to prove there must be a fail- 
ure here, and that the success of the French revolution was neces- 
sary to stay up our own and '' prevent its falling back to that kind 
of half-way house, the English constitution." Outside of the cab- 
inet, the Vice President, John Adams, regarded the French revo- 
lution with strong distrust. His official position, however, was too 
negative in its nature to afford him an opportunity of exerting influ- 
ence on public affairs. He considered the post of Vice President 
beneath his talents. " My country," writes he, "has, in its wisdom, 
contrived for me the most insignificant office that ever the inven- 
tion of a man contrived or his imagination conceived." Impatient 
of a situation in which, as he said, he could do neither good nor 
evil, he resorted, for mental relief, to the press, and for upwards 
of a year had exercised his fertile and ever ready pen, in furnish- 
ing Fenno's Gazette of the United States with a series of papers 
entitled " Discourses on Davila," being an analysis of Davila's 
History of the Civil Wars of France in the i6th century. The aim 
of Mr. Adams, in this series, was to point out to his countrymen 
the dangers to be apprehended from powerful factions in ill-bal- 
anced forms of government ; but he was charged with advocating 
monarchy, and laboring to prepare the way for an hereditary 
presidency. To counteract these " political heresies," a reprint 
of Paine' s Rights of Man, written in reply to Burke's pamphlet on 
the French revolution, appeared under the auspices of Mr. Jeffer- 
son. While the public mind was thus agitated with conflicting 
opinions, news arrived in August, of the flight of Louis XVI. from 
Paris, and his recapture at Varennes. All Jefferson's hatred of 
royalty was aroused by this breach of royal faith. " Such are the 
fruits of that form of government," said he, scornfully, "which 
heaps importance on idiots, and which the tories of the present 
day are trying to preach into our favor. It would be unfortunate 
were it in the power of any one man to defeat the issue of so beau- 
tiful a revolution. I hope and trust that it is not, and that, for the 
good of suffering humanity all over the earth, that revolution will 
be established and spread all over the world." He was the first 
to communicate the intelligence to Washington, who was holding one 
of his levees, and observes, " I never saw him so much dejected by 
any event in my life." 

The second Congress assembled at Philadelphia on the 24th of 



5-/6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

October, and on the 25th Washington delivered his opening 
speech. After remarking upon the prosperous situation of the 
country, and the success which had attended its financial meas- 
ures, he adverted to the offensive operations against the Indians,- 
which government had been compelled to adopt for the protection 
of the Western frontier. Two expeditions had been organized in 
Kentucky against the villages on the Wabash. The first, in May, 
■was led by Gen. Charles Scott, having Gen. Wilkinson as second 
in command. The second, a volunteer enterprise, in August, was 
led by Wilkinson alone. Very little good was effected, or glory 
gained by either of these expeditions. The troops for Gen. St. 
Clair's expedition assembled early in September, in the vicinity of 
Fort Washington (now Cincinnati). There were about two thou- 
sand regulars, and one thousand militia. An arduous task was 
before them. Roads were to be opened through a wilderness; 
bridges constructed for the conveyance of artillery and stores, and 
forts to be built so as to keep up a line of communication between 
the Wabash and the Ohio, the base of operations. The troops 
commenced their march directly North, on the 6th or 7th of Sep- 
tember, cutting their way through the woods, and slowly construct- 
ing the line of forts. After placing garrisons in the forts, the gen- 
eral continued his march. It was a forced one with him, for he 
was so afflicted with the gout that he could not walk, and had to 
be helped on and off of his horse; but his only chance to keep his 
little army together was to move on. A number of the Virginia 
troops had already, on the 27th of October, insisted on their dis- 
charges, and the time of the other battalions was nearly up. The 
army had proceeded six days after leaving Fort Jefferson, and 
were drawing near a part of the country where they were likely to 
meet with Indians, when, on the 30th of October, sixty of the 
militia deserted in a body. The 1st United States regiment, 300 
men, under Major Hamtranck, was detached to march back be- 
yond Fort Jefferson, apprehend these deserters, if possible, and, at 
all events, prevent the provisions that might be on the way, from 
being rifled. Thus reduced to 1,400 effective rank and file, the 
army continued its march to a point about twenty-nine miles from 
Fort Jefferson, and ninety-seven from Fort Washington, and fif- 
teen miles south of the Miami villages, where it encamped November 
3d, on a rising ground with a stream forty feet wide in front, running 
westerly. This stream was mistaken by Gen. St. Clair for the St. 
Mary, which empties itself into the Miami of the lakes; but it was, 
in fact, a tributary of the Wabash. A number of new and old 
Indian camps showed that this had been a place of general resort; 
and in the bends of the stream were tracks of a party of fifteen, 
horse and foot; a scouting party most probably, which must have 
quitted the ground just before the arrival of the army. The 
ground descended gradually in front of the encampment to the 
stream, which, at this time, was fordable, and meandered in its 
course; in some places, one hundred yards distant from the camp, 
in others not more than twenty-five. The immediate spot of the 
encampment was very defensible against regular troops; but it was 



I79I-J THE INDIAN'S SURPRISE ST. CLAIR. 577 

surrounded by close woods, dense thickets, and trunks of fallen 
trees, with here and there a ravine, and a small swamp — all the 
best kind of cover for stealthy Indian warfare. The militia were 
encamped beyond the stream about a quarter of a mile in the 
advance, on. a high flat, a much more favorable position than that 
occupied by the main body. About half an hour before sunrise on 
November 4, and just after the troops had been dismissed on parade, 
a horrible sound burst forth from the woods around the miUtia 
camp, resembling, says an officer, the jangling of an infinitude of 
horse-bells. It was the direful Indian yell, followed by the sharp 
reports of the deadly rifle. The militia returned a feeble fire and 
then took to flight, dashing helter-skelter into the other camp. The 
first line of continental troops, which was hastily forming, was 
throvvn into disorder. The Indians were close upon the heels of 
the flying militia, and would have entered the camp with them, 
but the sight of troops drawn up with fixed bayonets to receive 
them, checked their ardor, and they threw themselves behind logs 
and bushes at the distance of seventy yards ; and immediately 
commenced an attack upon the first line, which soon was extended 
to the second. The great weight of the attack was upon the cen- 
ter of each line where the artillery was placed. The artillery, if 
not well served, was bravely fought; a quantity of canister and 
some round shot were thrown in the direction whence the Indians 
fired; but, concealed as they were, and only seen occasionally as 
they sprang from one covert to another, it was impossible to direct 
the pieces to advantage. The artillerists themselves were exposed 
to a murderous fire, and every officer, and more than two-thirds of 
the men, were killed and wounded. Twice the Indians pushed 
into camp, delivering their fire and then rushing on with the toma- 
hawk, but each time they were driven back. Gen. Butler had 
been shot from his horse, and was sitting down to have his wound 
dressed, when a daring savage, darting into camp, tomahawked 
and scalped him. He failed to carry off his trophy, being instantly 
slain. The veteran St. Clair, who, unable to mount his horse, was 
borne about on a litter, preserved his coolness in the midst of the 
peril and disaster, giving his orders with judgment and self-posses- 
sion. He ordered Col. Darke, with his regiment of regulars, to 
rouse the Indians from their covert with the bayonet, and turn 
their left flank. This was executed with great spirit : the enemy 
were driven three or four hundred yards; but, for want of cavalry 
or riflemen, the pursuit slackened, and the troops were forced to 
give back in turn. The savages had now got into the camp by 
the left flank; again several charges were made, but in vain. 
Great carnage was suffered from the enemy concealed in the 
woods; every shot seemed to take effect; all the officers of the 
second regiment were picked off, excepting three. The contest 
had now endured for more than two hours and a half. Tlie spirits 
of the troops flagged under the loss of the officers; half of the 
army was killed, and the situation of the remainder was desperate. 
There appeared to be no alternative but a retreat. St. Clair 
ordered Col. Darke, with the second regiment, to make another 

19 



578 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

charge, as if to turn the right wing of the enemy, but, in fact, to 
regain the road from which the army was cut off. This object was 
effected. Some of the wounded officers were brought off on 
horses, but several of the disabled men had to be left on the 
ground. The poor fellows charged their pieces before they were 
left: and the firing of musketry heard by the troops after they 
quitted the camp, told that their unfortunate comrades were sell- 
ing their lives dear. It was a disorderly flight. The troops tlirew 
away arms, ammunition, accoutrements; even the officers, in some 
instances, divested themselves of their fusees. The general was 
mounted on a pack horse which could not be pricked out of a 
walk. By seven in the evening, the fugitives reached Fort Jeffer- 
son, a distance of twenty-nine miles. Here they met Major Ham- 
tranck with the first regiment; but, as this force was far from suf- 
ficient to make up for the losses of the morning, the retreat was 
continued to Fort Washington, where the army arrived on the 8th 
at noon, shattered and broken-spirited. The whole loss of regular 
troops and levies amounted to five hundred and fifty killed, and 
two hundred wounded. Out of ninety-five commissioned officers 
who were on the field, thirty-one were slain and twenty-four 
wounded. Poor St. Clair's defeat has been paralleled with that of 
Braddock. No doubt, when he realized the terrible havoc that 
had been made, he thought sadly of Washington's parting words, 
"Beware of a surprise !" 

Toward' s the close of a winter's day in December, an officer in 
uniform dismounted in front of the President's house, and, giving 
the bridle to his servant, knocked at the door. He was informed 
by the porter that the President was at dinner and had company. 
The officer was not to be denied ; he brought despatches for the 
President. Washington rose from the table and went into the hall, 
whence he returned in a short time and resumed his seat, apologiz- 
ing for his absence, but without alluding to the cause of it. One 
of the company, however, overheard him, as he took his seat, 
mutter to himself, with an ejaculation of extreme impatience, "I 
knew it would be so !" Mrs. Washington held her drawing-room 
that evening. Washington appeared there with his usual serenity; 
speaking courteously to every lady, as was his custom. By ten 
o'clock all the company had gone ; Mrs. Washington retired soon 
after, and W^ashington and his secretary alone remained. The 
general walked slowly backward and forward for some minutes in 
silence. As yet there had been no change in his manner. Tak- 
ing a seat on a sofa by the fire he told Mr. Lear to sit down; the 
latter had scarce time to notice that he was extremely agitated, 
when he broke out suddenly: " It's all over ! — St. Clair's defeated! 
. — routed: the officers nearly all killed, the men by wholesale ; 
the rout complete; too shocking to think of, and a surprise into the 
bargain !" AH this was uttered with great vehemence. Then 
pausing and rising from the sofa, he walked up and down the room 
in silence, violently agitated, but saying nothing. When near the 
door he stopped short ; stood still for a few moments, when there 
was another terrible explosion of wrath. "Yes," exclaimed he. 



79I-J *'HE SHALL HAVE JUSTICE!'' 



579 



^ HERE, on this very spot, I took leave of him; I wished him suc- 
cess and honor. ' You have your instructions from the Secretary 
of War,' said I, 'I had a strict eye to them, and will add but one 
word, BEWARE OF A SURPRISE ! You know how the Indians fight 
us. I repeat it, beware of a surprise.' He went off with that, 
my last warning, thrown into his ears. And yet ! ! To suffer that 
army to be cut to pieces, hacked, butchered, tomahawked, by a 
surprise— the very thing I guarded him against— O God ! O God!" 
exclaimed he, throwing up his hands, and while his very frame 
shook with emotion, " he's worse than a murderer! How can he 

answer it to his country ! The blood of the slain is upon him 

the curse of widows and orphans — the curse of heaven!*' Mr. 
Lear remained speechless; awed into breathless silence by the 
appalling tone in which this torrent of invective was poured forth. 
Tiie paroxysm passed by. Washington again sat down on the sofa 
— he was silent — apparently uncomfortable, as if conscious of the 
ungovernable burst of passion which had overcome him. " This 
must not go beyond this room," said he at length, in a subdued 
and altered tone — there was another and a longer pause; then, in 
a tone quite low : "Gen. St. Clair shall have justice," said he. 
" I looked hastily through the despatches; saw the whole disaster, 
but not all the particulars. I will receive him without displeasure; 
I will hear him without prejudice; he shall have full justice." 

In the course of the present session of Congress a bill was intro- 
duced for apportioning representatives among the people of the 
several States, according to the first enumeration. The constitu- 
tion had provided that the number of representatives should not 
exceed one for every thirty thousand persons, and the House of 
Representatives passed a bill allotting to each State one member 
for this amount of population. This ratio would leave a fraction, 
greater or less, in each State. Its operation was unequal, as in 
some States a large surplus would be unrepresented, and hence, in 
one branch of the legislature, the relative power of the State be 
affected. That, too, was the popular branch, which those who 
feared a strong executive, desired to provide with the counterpoise 
of as full a representation as possible. To obviate this difficulty 
the Senate adopted a new principle of apportionment. They 
assumed the total population of the United States, and not the 
population of each State, as the basis on which the whole number 
of representatives should be ascertained. After an earnest debate, 
the House concurred, and the bill came before the President for 
his decision. After maturely deliberating, he made up his mind 
that the act was unconstitutional. It was the obvious intent of the 
constitution to apply the ratio of representation according to the 
separate numbers of each State, and not to the aggregate of the 
population of the United States. Now this bill allotted to eight of 
the States more than one representadve for thirty thousand inhab- 
itants. He accordingly returned the bill with his objections, being 
the first exercise of the veto power. A new bill was substituted, 
and passed into a law; giving a representative for every thirty- 
three thousand to each State. 



58o LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Washington had observed with pain the political divisions which 
were growing up in the country; and was deeply concerned at 
finding that they were pervading the halls of legislation. The 
press, too, was contributing its powerful aid to keep up and increase 
the irritation. Two rival papers existed at the seat of govern- 
ment ; one was Fenno's Gazette of the United States; the other 
was the National Gazette, edited by Philip Freneau. Freneau 
had been editor of the New York Daily Advertiser, but had come 
to Philadelphia in the autumn of 1791 to occupy the post of trans- 
lating clerk in Mr. Jefferson*s office, and had almost immedi- 
ately (Octber 31) published the first number of his Gazette. Not- 
withstanding his situation in the office of the Secretary of State, 
Freneau became and continued to be throughout the session, a 
virulent assailant of most of the measures of government; except- 
ing such as originated with Mr. Jefferson, or were approved by 
him. 

Washington longed to be once more master of himself, free to 
indulge those rural and agricultural tastes which were to give ver- 
dure and freshness to his future existence. He had some time 
before this expressed a determination to retire from public life at 
the end of his presidential term. But one more year of that term 
remained to be endured ; he was congratulating himself with the 
thought, when Mr. Jefferson intimated that it was his intention 
to retire from office at the same time with himself. In his Anas, 
he assures us that the President remonstrated with him against it, 
** in an affectionate tone." For his own part, he observed, many 
motives compelled him to retire. It was only after much pressing 
that he had consented to take a part in the new government and 
get it under way. Were he to continue in it longer, it might give 
room to say that, having tasted the sweets of office, he could not 
do without them. He observed, moreover, to Jefferson, that he 
really felt himself growing old; that his bodily health was less 
firm, and his memory, always bad, was becoming worse. The 
other faculties of his mind, perhaps, might be evincing to others a 
decay of which he himself might be insensible. This apprehen- 
sion, he said, particularly oppressed him. His activity, too, had 
declined; business was consequently more irksome, and the long- 
ing for tranquillity and retirement had become an irresistible pas- 
sion; yet he should consider it unfortunate if he should bring on 
the retirement of the great officers of government, which might 
produce a shock on the public mind of a dangerous consequence. 
Jefferson, in reply, stated the reluctance with which he himself had 
entered upon public employment, and the resolution he had formed 
on accepting his station in the cabinet, to make the resignation of 
the President the epoch of his own retirement from labors of which 
he was heartily tired. He did not believe, however, that any of 
his brethren in the administration had any idea of retiring; on the 
contrary, he had perceived, at a late meeting of the trus- 
tees of the sinking fund, that the Secretary of the Treasury 
had developed the plan he intended to pursue, and that it em- 
braced years in its views. Washington rejoined, that he consid- 



1791] AVERSE TO A SECOND TERM. . 581 

ered the Treasury department a limited one, going only to the sin- 
gle object of revenue, while that of the Secretary of State, 
embracing nearly all the objects of administration, was much 
more important, and the retirement of the officer, therefore, would 
be more noticed; that though the government had set out with a 
pretty general good will, yet that symptoms of dissatisfaction had 
lately shown themselves, far beyond what he could have expected; 
and to what height these might arise, in case of too great a change 
in the administration, could not be foreseen. Jefferson availed 
himself of this opportunity to have a thrust at his political rival. 
" I told him that in my opinion there was only a single source of 
these discontents. That a system had been contrived by the 
Treasury for deluging the States with paper money instead of gold 
and silver, for withdrawing our citizens from the pursuits of com- 
merce, manufactures, buildings, and other branches of useful 
industry, to occupy themselves and their capitals in a species of 
gambling, destructive to morality, and which had introduced its 
poison into the government itself." Yet with all this political riv- 
alry, Jefferson has left on record his appreciation of the sterling 
merit of Hamilton. In his Anas, he speaks of him as of " acute 
understanding, disinterested, honest, and honorable in all private 
transactions; amiable in society, and duly valuing virtue in private 
life. Yet so bewitched and pervaded by the British example, as to 
be under thorough conviction that corruption was essential to the 
government of a nation. ' * He gives a conversation which occurred 
between Hamilton and Adams, at his (Jefferson's) table, after the 
cloth was removed. "Conversation," writes he, "began on other 
matters, and by some circumstance was led to the British constitu- 
tion, on which Mr. Adams observed, 'purge that constitution of its 
corruption, and give to its popular branch equality of representa- 
tion, and it would be the most perfect constitution ever devised by 
the wit of man.' Hamilton paused and said, 'purge it of its cor- 
ruption, and give to its popular branch equality of representation, 
and it would become an impracticable government; as it stands 
at present, with all its supposed defects, it is the most perfect 
government which ever existed.' " Washington had, also, con- 
fidential conversations with Mr. Madison on the subject of his 
intended retirement from office at the end of the presidential term. 
Madison remonstrated in the most earnest manner against such a 
resolution, setting forth, in urgent language, the importance to the 
country of his continuing in the presidency. Washington listened 
to his reasoning with profound attention, but still clung to his reso- 
lution. 

Gen. St. Clair resigned his commission, and was succeeded in 
his Western command by Gen. Wayne, the mad Anthony of 
the revolution, still in the vigor of his days, being forty-seven 
years of age. " He has many good points as an officer," writes 
Washington, " and it is to be hoped that time, reflection, good 
advice, and, above all, a due sense of the importance of the trust 
which is committed to him, will correct his foibles, or cast a shade 
over them." Washington's first thought was that a decisive expe- 



582 . LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

dition conducted by this energetic man of the sword, might 
retrieve the recent frontier disgrace, and put an end to the perse- 
vering hostility of the Indians. In deference, however, to the 
clamors which had been raised against the war and its expenses, 
and to meet what appeared to be the prevalent wish of the nation, 
he reluctantly relinquished his more energetic policy, and gave in 
to that which advised further negotiations for peace ; though he 
was far from anticipating a beneficial result. In regard to St. 
Clair, a committee of the House of Representatives ultimately 
inquired into the cause of the failure of his expedition, and ren- 
dered a report, in which he was explicitly exculpated. PubHc sen- 
timent, however, remained for a long time adverse to him; but 
Washington, satisfied with the explanation which had been given, 
continued to honor him with his confidence and friendship. 

Congress adjourned on the 8th of May, and soon afterward 
Washington set off on a short visit to Mount Vernon. The season 
\\'as in all its beauty, and never had this rallying place of his affec- 
tions appeared to him more attractive. How could he give up the 
prospect of a speedy return to its genial pursuits and pleasures 
from the harassing cares and janglings of public hfe. On the 
20th of May, he wrote to Mr. Madison on the subject of their late 
conversation. "I have not been unmindful," says he, "of the 
sentiments expressed by you. On the contrary, I have again and 
again revolved them with thoughtful anxiety, but without being 
able to dispose my mind to a longer continuation in the office 1 
have now the honor to hold. I therefore, still look forward with 
the fondest and most ardent wishes to spend the remainder of my 
days, which I cannot expect to be long, in ease and tranquillity." 
He requested Mr. Madison's advice as to the proper time and mode 
for announcing his intention of retiring, and for assistance in pre- 
paring the announcement. "In revolving this subject myself," 
writes he, " my judgment has always been embarrassed. On the 
one hand, a previous declaration to retire, not only carries with it 
the appearance of vanity and self-importance, but it may be con- 
strued into a maneuver to be invited to remain; and, on the other 
hand, to say nothing, implies consent, or, at any rate, would leave 
the matter in doubt; and to decline afterwards, might be deemed 
as bad and uncandid. I would fain carry my request to you 
further; that you would turn your thoughts to a valedictory address 
from me to the public." He suggested a number of the topics and 
ideas which the address was to contain; all to be expressed in 
" plain and modest terms." Madison advised that the notification 
and address should appear together, and be promulgated through 
the press in time to pervade every part of the Union by the begin- 
ning of November. With the letter he sent a draft of the address. 
" You will readily observe," writes he, "that, in executing it, I have 
aimed at that plainness and modesty of language, which you had 
in view, and which, indeed, are so peculiarly becoming the char- 
acter and occasion; and that I had little more to do as to the mat- 
ter, than to follow the just and comprehensive outline which you 
had sketched. I flatter myself, however, that, in everything which 



I79I-] JEFFERSON EXTOLS WASHINGTON. 583 

has depended on me, much improvement will be made, before so 
interesting a paper shall have taken its last form." He expressed 
a hope that Washington would reconsider his idea of retiring from 
office, and that the country might not, at so important a conjunct- 
ure, be deprived of the inestimable advantage of having him at 
the head of its councils. On the 23d of May, Jefferson also 
addressed along letter to Washington on the same subject. " When 
you first mentioned to me your purpose of retiring from the gov- 
ernment, though I felt all the magnitude of the event, I was in a 
considerable degree silent. I knew that, to such a mind as yours, 
persuasion was idle and impertinent; that, before forming your 
decision, you had weighed all the reasons for and against the 
measure, had made up your mind in full view of them, and that 
there could be little hope of changing the result. Pursuing my 
reflections, too, I knew we were some day to try to walk alone, 
and, if the essay should be made while you should be alive and 
looking on, we should derive confidence from that circumstance, 
and resource if it failed. The public mind, too, was then calm 
and confident, and therefore in a favorable state for making the 
experiment. But the public mind is no longer so confident and 
serene; and that from causes in which you are no ways personally 
mixed. The confidence of the whole Union is centered in you. 
Your being at the helm will be more than an answer to every 
argument which can be used to alarm and lead the people in any 
quarter into violence or secession. North and South will hang 
together, if they have you to hang on. I am perfectly aware of 
the oppression under which your present office lays your mind, 
and of the ardor with which you pant for retirement to domestic life. 
But there is sometimes an eminence of character on which society 
have such peculiar claims, as to control the predilections of the 
individual for a particular walk of happiness, and restrain him to 
that alone, arising from the present and future benedictions of 
mankind. This seems to be your condition, and the law imposed 
on you by Providence, in forming your character, and fashioning 
the events on which it was to operate; and it is to motives like 
these that I appeal from your former determination and urge a 
revisal of it, on the ground of change in the aspect of things. 
Should an honest majority result from the new and enlarged repre- 
sentation, should those acquiesce, whose principles or interests 
they may control, your wishes for retirement would be gratified 
with less danger, as soon as that shall be manifest, without await- 
ing the completion of the second period of four years." 

This letter was not received by Washington until after his return 
to Philadelphia, and the purport of it was so painful to him, that 
he deferred from day to day having any conversation with Jeffer- 
son on the subject. In regard to the suspicions and apprehensions 
which apparently were haunting Jefferson's mind, Hamilton 
expressed himself roundly in one of his cabinet papers: "The 
idea of introducing a monarchy or aristocracy into this country, by 
employing the influence and force of a government continually 
changing hands, towards it, is one of those visionary things that 



584 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

none but madmen could meditate, and that no wise man -will 
believe. If it could be done at all, which is utterly incredible, it 
would require a long series of time, certainly beyond the hfe of 
any individual, to effect it — who, then, would enter into such a 
plot? for what purpose of interest or ambition?" 

On the loth of July, Washington had a conversation with Jeffer- 
son, and endeavored with his usual supervising and moderating 
assiduity to allay the jealousies and suspicions which were disturb- 
ing the mind of that ardent politician. There might be desires, he 
said, among a few in the higher walks of life, particularly in the 
great cities, to change the form of government into a monarchy, 
but he did not believe there were any designs ; and he believed the 
main body of the people in the Eastern States were as steadily for 
republicanism as in the Southern. He spoke with earnestness 
about articles in the pubhc papers, especially in the Gazette edited 
by Freneau, the object of which seemed to be to excite opposition 
to the government, and which had actually excited it in Pennsyl- 
vania, in regard to the excise law. "These articles," said he, feel- 
ingly, " tend to produce a separation of the Union, the most dread- 
ful of calamities ; and whatever tends to produce anarchy, tends, 
of course, to produce a resort to monarchial government. In 
condemning the administration of the government, they condemned 
me, for, if they thought these were measures pursued contrary to 
my sentiments, they must conceive me too careless to attend to 
them or too stupid to understand them." 

Hamilton was equally strenuous in urging upon Washington the 
policy of reelection, as it regarded the public good, and wrote to 
him fully on the subject. It was the opinion of every one, he 
alleged, with whom he had conversed, that the affairs of the 
national government were not yet firmly established ; that the 
period of the next House of Representatives was likely to prove 
the crisis of its national character ; that if W^ashington con- 
tinued in office, nothing materially mischievous was to be appre- 
hended; but, if he should quit, much was to be dreaded; that, in- 
deed, it would have been better as it regarded his own character, 
that he had never consented to come forward, than now to leave 
the business unfinished and in danger of being undone; that in the 
event of storms arising, there would be an imputation either of 
want of foresight or want of firmness; and, in fine, that on public 
and personal accounts, on patriotic and prudential considerations, 
the clear path to be pursued by him would be again to obey the 
voice of his country ; which, it was not doubted, would be as 
earnest and unanimous as ever. Mr. Edmund Randolph also, 
after a long letter on the " jeopardy of the Union," which seemed 
to him "at the eve of a crisis," adds : " The fuel which has been 
already gathered for combustion wants no addition. But how 
awfully might it be increased, were the violence, which is now 
suspended by a universal submission to your pretensions, let loose 
by your resignation. The constitution would never have been 
adopted but from a knowledge that you had sanctioned it, and an 
expectation that you would execute it. It is the fixed opinion of 



1792.] POLITICAL FEUDS DEPRECATED, 585 

the world, that you should surrender nothing incomplete." All 
parties, however discordant in other points, concurred in a desire 
that Washington should continue in office — so truly was he regarded 
as the choice of the nation. — Washington in a letter to Jefferson 
(August 23d), on the subject of Indian hostilities, observes : " How 
unfortunate, and how much to be regretted that, while we are en- 
compassed on all sides with armed enemies and insidious friends, 
internal dissension should be harrowing and tearing our vitals. 
The latter, to me, is the most serious, the most alarming and the 
most afflicting of the two; and without more charity for the opin- 
ions and acts of one another in governmental matters, I believe it 
will be difficult, if not impracticable, to manage the reins of gov- 
ernment, or to keep the parts of it together; for if, instead of lay- 
ing our shoulders to the machine after measures are decided on, 
one pulls this way and another that, it must inevitably be torn 
asunder; and, in my opinion, the fairest prospect of happiness and 
prosperity that ever was presented to man, will be lost perhaps for- 
ever. Admonitions to the same purport were addressed by him to 
Hamilton : "I would fain hope that liberal allowances will be made 
for the political opinions of each other; and, instead of those 
wounding suspicions and irritating charges, with which some of 
our gazettes are so strongly impregnated, and which cannot fail, 
if persevered in, of pushing matters to extremity, and thereby 
tearing the machine asunder, that there may be mutual forbear- 
ance on all sides. Without these I do not see how the reins of 
government are to be managed, or how the Union of the State can 
be much longer preserved." Hamilton was prompt and affection- 
ate in his reply : "I pledge my hand to you, sir, that, if you shall 
hereafter form a plan to reiinite the members of your administra- 
tion upon some steady principle of cooperation, I will faithfully 
concur in executing it during my continuance in office. And I 
will not, directly or indirectly, say or do a thing that shall en- 
danger a feud." Jefferson, too, assured Washington that to no 
one had the dissensions of the cabinet given deeper concern than 
to himself — to no one equal mortification at being himself a part of 
them. 

Washington's solicitude for harmony in his cabinet had been ren- 
dered more anxious by public disturbances in some parts of the 
country. The excise law on ardent spirits distilled within the 
United States, had, from the time of its enactment by Congress in 
1 791, met with opposition from the inhabitants of the Western 
counties of Pennsylvania. It had been modified and rendered less 
offensive within the present year; but the hostility to it had con- 
tinued. Combinations were formed to defeat the execution of it^ 
and the revenue officers were riotously opposed in the execution 
of their duties. Washington, on the 15th of September, issued a 
proclamation, warning all persons to desist from such unlawful 
combinations and proceedings, and requiring all courts, magis- 
trates, and officers to bring the infractors of the law to justice; 
copies of which proclamation were sent to the governors of Penn- 
sylvania and North and South Carolina. 



586 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

It was after a long and painful conflict of feelings that Washing- 
ton consented. to be a candidate for a reelection. There was no 
opposition on the part of the public, and the vote for him in the 
Electoral College was unanimous. In a letter to a friend, he de- 
clared himself gratefully impressed by so distinguished and honora- 
ble a testimony of public approbation and confidence. George 
Clinton, of New York, was held up for the Vice-presidency, in op- 
position to John Adams; but the latter was reelected by a majority 
of twenty-seven electoral votes. But though gratified to find that 
the hearts of his countrymen were still with him, it was with no 
emotion of pleasure that Washington looked forward to another 
term of public duty, and a prolonged absence from the quiet retire- 
ment of Mount Vernon. Congress opened on the fifth of Novem- 
ber. The continuance of the Indian war formed a painful topic in 
the President's address. Efforts at pacification had as yet been 
unsuccessful: two brave officers, Col. Hardin and Major Trueman, 
who had been sent to negotiate with the savages, had been mur- 
dered. Vigorous preparations were therefore making for an active 
prosecution of hostilities, in which Wayne was to take the field. 
Washington, with benevolent earnestness, dwelt upon the humane 
system of civilizing the tribes, by inculcating agricultural tastes 
and habits. The factions and turbulent opposition which had been 
made in some parts of the country to the collection of duties on 
spirituous liquors distilled in the United States, was likewise ad- 
verted to by the President, and a determination expressed to assert 
and maintain the just authority of the laws. He expressed a 
strong hope that the state of the national finances was now suffi- 
ciently matured to admit of an arrangement for the redemption 
and discharge of the public debt. "No measure," said he, "can 
be more desirable, whether viewed with an eye to its intrinsic im- 
portance, or to the general sentiment and wish of the nation." The 
address was well received by both houses, and a disposition ex- 
pressed to concur with the President's views and wishes. The 
Secretary of the Treasury, in reporting, at the request of the 
House, a plan for the annual reduction of so much of the national 
debt as the United States had a right to redeem, spoke of the ex- 
penses of the Indian war, and the necessity of additional internal 
taxes. This gave an opportunity for sternly criticising the mode 
in which the Indian war had been conducted; for discussing the 
comparative merits and cost of regular and militia forces, and for 
inveighing against standing armies, as dangerous to liberty. The 
veneration inspired by the character of Washington, and the per- 
suasion that he would never permit himself to be considered the 
head of a party, had hitherto shielded him from attack ; a little 
circumstance, however, showed that the rancor of party was begin- 
ning to glance at him. On his birthday (February 22) many of 
the members of Congress were desirous of waiting on him in testi- 
mony of respect as chief magistrate of the Union, and a motion 
was made to adjourn for half an hour for the purpose. It met with 
serious opposition as a species of homage — it was setting up an 
idol dangerous to liberty — it had a bias towards monarchy ! 



I793-] REIGN OF TERROR IN FRANCE. 587 

Washington, though he never courted popularity, was attentive 
to the signs of pubUc opinion, and disposed to be guided by them 
when right. The time for entering upon his second term of Presi- 
dency was at hand. There had been much cavilling at the parade 
attending his first installation. Jefferson especially had pro- 
nounced it "not at all in character with simplicity of repubhcan 
government." At Washington's request, the heads of depart- 
ments held a consultation, and gave their individual opinions in 
writing, with regard to the time, manner, and place of the Presi- 
dent's taking the oath of office. As they gave no positive advice 
as to any change, no change was made. On the 4th of March, 
the oath was publicly administered to Washington by Mr. Justice 
Gushing, in the Senate Chamber, in presence of the heads of de- 
partments, foreign ministers, members of the House of Representa- 
tives, and many spectators. 

Early in 1793, Gouverneur Morris had received the appointment 
of minister plenipotentiary to the French Gourt. His diplomatic 
correspondence from Paris gave shocking accounts of the excesses 
attending the revolution. France was governed by Jacobin 
clubs. Lafayette, by endeavoring to check their excesses, had 
completely lost his authority. "Were he to appear just now in 
Paris, unattended by his army," writes Morris, "he would be 
torn to pieces." Washington received these accounts with deep 
concern. What was to be the fate of that distracted country — 
what was to be the fate of his friend ! His forebodings were 
soon verified. On the 20th of June bands from the Faubourg 
St. Antoine, armed with pikes, and headed by Santerre, marched 
to the Tuileries, insulted the king in the presence of his family, 
obHging him to put on the bonnet rouge, the baleful cap of lib- 
erty of the revolution. Lafayette, still loyal to his sovereign, 
hastened to Paris, appeared at the bar of the Assembly, and de- 
manded, in the name of the army, the punishment of those who 
had thus violated the constitution, by insulting in his palace, the 
chief of the executive power. His intervention proved of no 
avail, and he returned with a sad and foreboding heart to his 
army. On the 9th of August, Paris was startled by the sound 
of the fatal tocsin at midnight. On the loth the chateau of the 
Tuileries was attacked, and the Swiss guard who defended it, 
were massacred. The king and queen took refuge in the Na- 
tional Assembly, which body decreed the suspension of the 
king's authority. It was at once the overthrow of the monarchy, 
the annihilation of the constitutional party, and the commence- 
ment of the reign of terror. Lafayette, who was the head of the 
constitutionalists, was involved in their downfall. The Jacobins 
denounced him in the National Assembly; his arrest was decreed, 
and emissaries were sent to carry the decree into effect. Leav- 
ing everything in order in his army, which remained encamped 
at Sedan, he set off with a few trusty friends for the Nether- 
lands, to seek an asylum in Holland or the United States, but, 
with his companions, was detained a prisoner at Rochefort, the 
first Austrian post. The reign of terror continued. "We have 



588 LIFE OF WASHING TON, 

had one week of unchecked murders, in which some thousands 
have perished in this city," writes Morris to Jefferson on the 
loth of September. " It began with between two and three 
hundred of the clergy, who had been shot because they would not 
take the oaths precribed by the law, and which they said, were con- 
trary to their conscience." Thence these executors of speedy 
justice went on xS\Q.abbaye where persons w'ere confined who were 
at court on the loth of August. These were despatched also, and 
afterwards they visited the other prisons. "All those who were 
confined either on the accusation or suspicion of crimes, were 
destroyed." The accounts of these massacres grieved Mr. Jeffer- 
son. They were shocking in themselves, and he feared they might 
bring great discredit upon the Jacobins of France, whom be con- 
sidered republican patriots, bent on the establishment of a free con- 
stitution. In a letter to Mr. Short, he wrote: " The liberty of the 
whole earth was depending on the issue of the contest, and was 
ever such a prize won with so little innocent blood ? My own 
affections have been deeply wounded by some of the martyrs to 
this cause, but rather than it should have failed, I would have seen 
half the earth desolated; were there but an Adam and Eve left in 
every country, and left free, it would be better than as it now is." 
Washington wrote to the Marchioness Lafayette : " If I had words 
that could convey to you an adequate idea of my feelings on the 
present situation of the Marquis Lafayette, this letter would appear 
lo you in a different garb. The sole object in writing to you now, 
is to inform you that I have deposited in the hands of Mr. Nicho- 
las Van Staphorst of Amsterdam, two thousand three hundred and 
ten guilders, Holland currency, equal to two hundred guineas, sub- 
ject to your orders." Madame de Lafayette was at that time a 
prisoner in France, in painful ignorance of her husband's fate. 
She had been commanded by the Jacobin committee to repair to 
Paris about the time of the massacres, but was subsequently per- 
mitted to reside at Chavaniac, under the surveillance of the mu- 
nicipality. Afterwards, finding her husband was a prisoner in 
Austria, she obtained permission to leave France, and ultimately, 
with her two daughters, joined him in his prison at Olmutz. " His 
son, George Washington Lafayette, determined to seek an asylum 
in America. In the meantime, the armies of revoludonary France 
were crowned with great success. "Towns fall before them with- 
out a blow," writes Gouverneur Morris, "and the declaration of 
rights produces an effect equal at least to the trumpets of Joshua." 
l^ut Morris was far from drawing a favorable augury from this 
success. " We must observe the civil, moral, religious, and polit- 
ical institutions," said he. " These have a steady and lasting 
effect, and these only. Since I have been in this country, I have 
seen the worship of many idols, and but little of the true God. I 
have seen many of those idols broken, and some of them beaten 
to dust. I have seen the late constitution, in one short year, ad- 
mired as a stupendous monument of human wisdom, and ridi- 
culed as an egregious production of folly and vice. I wish much, 
very much, the happiness of this inconstant people. I love them. 



1793.] U'ASHIAG TON'S SECOND TERM. 589 

I feel grateful for their efforts in our cause, and I consider the 
estabhshment of a good constitution here as the principal means, 
under Divine Providence, of extending the blessings of freedom 
to the many millions of my fellow-men, who groan in bondage on 
the continent of Europe. But 1 do not greatly indulge the flatter- 
ing illusions of hope, because I do not perceive that reformation of 
morals, without which, hberty is but an empty sound." 

It was under gloomy auspices, a divided cabinet, an increasing 
exasperation of parties, a suspicion of monarchical tendencies, 
and a threatened abatement of popularity, that Washington en- 
tered upon his second term of presidency. It was a portentous 
period in the history of the world, for in a little while came news 
of that tragical event, the beheading of Louis XVI. It was an 
event deplored by the truest advocates of liberty in America, who, 
like Washington, remembered that unfortunate monarch as the 
friend of their country in her revolutionary struggle ; but others, 
zealots in the cause of pohtical reform, considered it with com* 
placency, as sealing the downfall of the French monarchy and the 
establishment of a republic. Early in April intelligence was re- 
ceived that France had declared war against England. Popular 
excitement was now wound up to the highest pitch. Many, in the 
wild enthusiasm of the moment, would at once have precipitated 
the country into a war. This belligerent impulse was checked by 
the calm, controlling wisdom of Washington. He was at Mount 
Vernon when he received news of the war. Hastening back to 
Philadelphia, he held a cabinet council on the 19th of April. It 
was unanimously determined that a proclamation should be issued 
by the President, "forbidding the citizens of the United States to 
take part in any hostilities on the seas, and warning them against 
carrying to the belligerents any articles deemed contraband accord- 
ing to the modern usuages of nations, and forbidding all acts and 
proceedings inconsistent with the duties of a friendly nation 
towards those at war." No one at the present day questions the 
wisdom of Washington's proclamation of neutrality. The meas- 
ure, however, was at variance with the enthusiastic feelings and 
excited passions of a large proportion of the citizens. They 
treated it for a time with some forbearance, out of long-cherished 
reverence for Washington's name; but his popularity, hitherto 
unlimited, was no proof against the inflamed state of public feeling. 
The- proclamation was stigmatized as a royal edict; a daring as- 
sumption of power ; an open manifestation of partiality for Eng- 
land and hostility to France. The French republic had recently 
appointed Edmond Charles Genet, or " Citizen Genet," as he was 
styled, minister to the United States. He had sei-ved in the bureau 
of Foreign Affairs under the ministry of Vergennes, and had been 
employed in various diplomatic situations until the overthrow of 
the monarchy, when he joined the popular party, became a politi- 
cal zealot, and member of the Jacobin club, and was rewarded 
with the mission to America. A letter from Gouvemeur Morris 
apprised Mr. Jefferson that the Executive Council had furnished 
Genet with three hundred blank commissions for privateers, to be 



590 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

given clandestinely to such persons as he might find in America 
inclined to take them. Genet landed at Charleston, South Carolina, 
from the French frigate the Ambuscade, on the 8th of April, a 
short time before the proclamation, of neutrality, and was re- 
ceived with great rejoicing and extravagant demonstrations of 
respect. His landing at a port several hundred miles from the 
seat of government, was a singular move for a diplomat. It is 
usual for a foreign minister to present his credentials to the gov- 
ernment to v/hich he comes, and be received by it in form before 
he presumes to enter upon the exercise of his functions. Citizen 
Genet, however, did not stop for these formalities. Confident in 
his nature, heated in his zeal, and flushed Avith the popular warmth 
of his reception, he could not pause to consider the proprieties of 
his mission and the delicate responsibilities involved in diplomacy. 
The contiguity of Charleston to the West Indies made it a favor- 
able port for fitting out privateers against the trade of these islands ; 
and during Genet's short sojourn there he issued commissions for 
arming and equipping vessels of war for that purpose, and man- 
ning them with Americans. In the latter part of April, he set out 
for the north by land. As he proceeded on his journey, the news- 
papers teemed with accounts of the processions and addresses 
with which he was greeted, and the festivities which celebrated his 
arrival at each place. On the i6th of May, he arrived at Phila- 
delphia. His belligerent operations at Charleston had already 
been made a subject of complaint to the government by Mr. Ham- 
mond, the British minister ; but they produced no abatement in 
the public enthusiasm. On the 17th, various societies and a large 
body of citizens waited upon him with addresses, recalling with grati- 
tude the aid given by France in the achievement of American In- 
dependence, and extolling and rejoicing in the success of the arms 
of the French republic. On the same day, he was invited to a 
grand republican dinner, "at which," we are told, "the com- 
pany united in singing the Marseilles Hymn. A deputation of 
French sailors were received by the guests with the 'fraternal em- 
brace.' The table was decorated with the 'tree of liberty'; the 
red cap of liberty was placed on the head of the minister, and 
from his travelled in succession from head to head round the 
table. ' ' This enthusiasm of the multitude was regarded with indul- 
gence, if not favor, by Jefferson, as being the effervescence of the 
true spirit of liberty ; but was deprecated by Hamilton as an infat- 
uation that might "do us much harm, and could do France no 
good," Washington, from his elevated and responsible situation, 
endeavored to look beyond the popular excitement, and regard 
the affairs of France with a dispassionate and impartial eye, but 
he confessed that he saw in the turn they had lately taken the 
probability of a terrible confusion, to which he could predict no 
certain issue: a boundless ocean whence no land was to be seen. 
He feared less, he said, for the cause of liberty in France from 
the pressure of foreign enemies, than from the strifes and quarrels 
of those in whose hands the government was intrusted, who were 



1793-] "iHE DUTY OF NEUTRALS. 591 

ready to tear each other to pieces, and would most probably prove 
the worst foes the country had. 

On the 1 8th of May, Genet presented his letter of credence to the 
President; who took the occasion to express his sincere regard for 
the French nation. Genet's acts at Charleston, had not been the 
sole ground of the complaint preferred by the British minister. 
The capture of a British vessel, the Grange, by the French frigate 
Ambuscade, formed a graver one. Occurring within our waters, 
it was a clear usurpation of national sovereignty, and a violation 
of neutral rights. The British minister demanded a restitution 
of the prize, and the cabinet was unanimously of opinion that resti- 
tution should be made; but restitution was likewise claimed of 
other vessels captured on the high seas, and brought into port by 
the privateers authorized by Genet. Hamilton and Knox were of 
opinion that the government should interpose to restore the prizes; 
it being the duty of a neutral nation to remedy any injury sustained 
by armaments fitted out in its ports. Jefferson and Randolph con- 
tended that the case should be left to the decision of the courts of 
justice. If the courts adjudged the commissions issued by Genet 
to be invalid, they would, of course, decide the captures made 
under them to be void, and the property to remain in the original 
owners; if, on the other hand, the legal right to the property had 
been transferred to the captors, they would so decide. Seeing 
this difference of opinion in the cabinet, Washington reserved the 
point for further deliberation; but directed the Secretary of State 
to communicate to the ministers of France and Britain, the prin- 
ciples in which they concurred; these being considered as settled. 
Genet took umbrage at these decisions of the government, com- 
plaining of them as violations of natural right, and subversive of 
the existing treaties between the two nations. He was informed 
that in the opinion of the executive, the vessels which had been 
illegally equipped, should depart from the ports of the United 
States. Washington was very much harried and perplexed by the 
"disputes, memorials, and what not," with which he was pestered. 
by one or other of the powers at war. It was a sore trial of his 
equanimity, his impartiality, and his discrimination, and wore 
upon his spirits and his health. "The President is not well," 
writes Jefferson to Madison (June 9th); "little lingering fevers 
have been hanging about him for a week or ten days, and affected 
his looks most remarkably. He is also extremely affected by the 
attacks made and kept up on him, in the public papers. I think 
he feels these things more than any other person I ever yet met 
with. I am sincerely sorry to see them." Washington might 
well feel sensitive to these attacks, which Jefferson acknowledges 
were the more mischievous, from being planted on popular ground, 
on the universal love of the people to France and its cause. But 
he was not to be deterred by personal considerations, from the 
strict line of his duty. In withstanding the pubhc infatuation in 
regard to France, he put an unparalleled popularity at hazard, 
without hesitation; and, in so doing, set a magnanimous example 
for his successors in office to endeavor to follow. 



592 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

The latter part of July, Washington was suddenly called to Mount 
Vernon by the death of Mr. Whiting, the manager of his estates. 
During his brief absence from the seat of government, occurred 
the case of the Little Sarah. This was a British merchant ves- 
sel which had been captured by a French privateer, and brought 
into Philadelphia, where she had been armed and equipped for 
privateering; manned with 120 men, many of them Americans, 
and the name changed into that of Le Petit Deviocrat. This, of 
course, was in violation of Washington's decision, which had been 
communicated to Genet. Gen. Mifflin, now Governor of Pennsyl- 
vania, being informed, on the 6th of July, that the vessel was to 
sail the next day, sent his secretary, Mr. Dallas, at midnight to 
Genet, to persuade him to detain her until the President should 
arrive, intimating that otherwise force would be used to prevent 
her departure. Genet flew into one of the transports of passion to 
which he was prone; contrasted the treatment experienced by him 
from the officers of government, with the attachment to his nation 
professed by the people at large; and threatened to repel force by 
force, should an attempt be made to seize the privateers. Mr. 
Jefferson, on the 7th of July, in an interview with Genet, repeated 
the request that the privateer be detained until the arrival of the 
President. Genet instantly took up the subject in a very high 
tone, and went into an immense field of declamation and com- 
plaint. Jefferson made a few efforts to be heard, but, finding them 
ineffectual, suffered the torrent of vituperation to pour on. Genet 
censured the executive for the measures it had taken without con- 
sulting Congress, and declared, that, on the President's return, he 
would certainly press him to convene that body. " I stopped him," 
writes Jefferson, *' at the subject of calling Congress; explained our 
constitution to him as having divided the functions of government 
among three different authorities, the executive, legislative, and 
judiciary, each of which were supreme on all questions belonging 
to their department, and independent of the ethers; that all the 
questions which had arisen between him and us, belonged to the 
executive department, and, if Congress were sitting, could not be 
carried to them, nor would they take notice of them." Genet 
asked with surprise, if Congress were not the sovereign. " No," 
replied Jefferson. "They are sovereign only in making laws; the 
executive is the sovereign in executing them, and the judiciary in 
construing them, where they relate to that department." "But 
at least," cried Genet, "Congress are bound to see that the treaties 
are observed." "No," rejoined Jefferson, "There are very few 
cases, indeed, arising out of treaties, which they can take notice 
of. The President is to see that treaties are observed." "If he 
decides against the treaty," demanded Genet, "to whom is a 
nation to appeal?" "The constitution," replied Jefferson, "has 
made the President the last appeal." Genet, perfectly taken 
aback ?X finding his own ignorance in the matter, shrugged his 
shoulders, made a bow, and said, "he would not compliment Mr. 
Jefferson on such a constitution ! " He had now subsided into 
coolness and good humor, and the subject of the Little Sarah 



1793. J RESOLUTE FOR NEUTRALITY, 593 

being resumed, Jefferson pressed her detention until the President's 
return; intimating that her previous departure would be considered 
a very serious offence. Genet made no promise, but expressed 
himself very happy to be able to inform Mr. Jefferson that the ves- 
sel was not in a state of readiness; she had to change her position 
that day, he said, and fall down the river, somewhere about the 
lower end of the town, for the convenience of taking some things 
on board, and would not depart yet. Washington arrived at 
Philadelphia on the ilth of July. No immediate measures of a 
coercive nature were taken with regard to the Little Sarah; but, 
in a cabinet council held the next day, it was determined to detain 
in port all privateers which had been equipped within the United 
States by any of the belligerent powers. No time was lost in com- 
municating this determination to Genet; but, in defiance of it, the 
vessel sailed on her cruise. 

About this time a society was formed under the auspices of the 
French minister, and in imitation of the Jacobin clubs of Paris. It 
was called the Democratic Society, and soon gave rise to others 
throughout the Union; all taking the French ^side in the present 
questions. The term democrat, thenceforward, began to designate 
an ultra-republican.— Fresh mortifications awaited Washington, 
from the distempered state of pubUc sentiment. The trial came 
on of Gideon Henfield, an American citizen, prosecuted under the 
advice of the Attorney General, for having enhsted, at Charleston, 
on board of a French privateer which had brought prizes into the 
port of Philadelphia. The populace took part with Henfield. He 
had enlisted before the proclamation of neutrafity had been pub- 
lished, and even if he had enlisted at a later date, was he to be 
punished for engaging with their ancient ally, France, in the cause 
of liberty against the royal despots of Europe ? His acquittal ex- 
posed Washington to the obloquy of having attempted a measure 
which the laws would not justify. It showed him, moreover, the 
futiUty of attempts at punishment for infractions of the rules pro- 
claimed for the preservation of neutrality. Nothing, however, 
could induce him to swerve from that policy. Hitherto he had ex- 
ercised great forbearance toward the French minister, notwith- 
standing the little respect shown by the latter to the rights of the 
United States; but the official communications of Genet were be- 
coming too offensive and insulting to be longer tolerated. Meet- 
ings of the heads of departments and the Attorney General were 
held at the President's on the ist and 2d of August, in which the 
whole of the official correspondence and conduct of Genet was 
passed in review; and it was agreed that his recall should be 
desired. 

Washington was threatened with the cabinet's dissolution. Mr, 
Hamilton had informed him by letter, that private as well as public 
reasons had determined him to retire from office towards the close 
of the next session. Now came a letter from Mr. Jefferson, dated 
July 31st,. in which he recalled the circumstances which had 
induced him to postpone for a while his original intention of retir- 
ing from office at the close of the first four years of the republic. 



594 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

These circumstances, he observed, had now ceased to such a 
degree as to leave him free to think again of a day on which to 
withdraw ; "at the close, therefore, of the ensuing month of Sep- 
tember, I shall beg leave to retire to scenes of greater tranquiUity, 
from those for which I am every day more and more convinced 
that neither my talents, tone of mind, nor time of life fit me." 
Washington called upon Jefferson at his country residence near 
Philadelphia ; pictured his deep distress at finding himself in the pres- 
ent perplexing juncture of aftairs, about to be deserted by those of 
his cabinet on whose counsel he had counted, and whose places 
he knew not where to find persons competent to supply ; and, 
in his chagrin, again expressed his repentance that he himself had 
not resigned as he had once meditated. A new Congress was to 
assemble, more numerous than the last, perhaps of a different 
spirit ; the first expressions of its sentiments would be important, 
and it would relieve him considerably if Jefferson would remain in 
office, if it were only until the end of the season. Jefferson, in 
reply, pleaded an excessive repugnance to public life ; and that 
the opposition of views between Mr. Hamilton and himself was 
peculiarly unpleasant, and destructive of the necessary harmony. 
With regard to the republican party he was sure it had not a view 
which went to the frame of the government ; he believed the next 
Congress would attempt nothing material but to render their own 
body independent. Washington replied, that he believed the 
views of the republican party to be perfectly pure : " but when men 
put a machine into motion," said he, " it is impossible for them to 
say where it will stop. The constitution we have is an excellent one, 
if we can keep it where it is." He adverted to Jefferson's constant 
suspicion that there was a party disposed to change the constitution 
into a monarchical form, declaring that there was not a man in the 
United States who would set his face more decidedly against such 
a change than himself; and added : " The republican spirit of the 
Union is so manifest and so solid that it is astonishing how any one 
can expect to move it." He had the highest opinion of Jef- 
ferson's abilities, his knowledge of foreign affairs, his thorough 
patriotism ; and it was his earnest desire to retain him in his cabinet 
through the whole of the ensuing session of Congress. A com- 
promise was eventually made, according to which Jefferson was to 
be allowed a temporary absence in the autumn, and on his return 
was to continue in office until January. 

In the mean time Genet had proceeded to New York, which very 
excitable city was just then in a great agitation. The frigate Am- 
buscade, while anchored in the harbor, had been challenged to 
single combat by the British frigate Boston, Capt. Courtney, which 
was cruising off the Hook. The challenge was accepted ; a severe 
action ensued ; Courtney was killed ; and the Boston, much dam- 
aged, was obliged to stand for Halifax. The Ambuscade returned 
triumphant to New York, and entered the port amid the enthusi- 
astic cheers of the populace. On the same day, a French fleet of 
fifteen Si il arrived from the Chesapeake and anchored in the Hud- 
son river. The officers and crews were objects of unbounded favor 



I793-] GENETS RECALL REQUESTED. 595 

with all who inclined to the French cause. Bompard, the com- 
mander of the Ambuscade, was the hero of the day. Tri-colored 
cockades, and tri-colored ribbons were to be seen on every side, 
and rude attemps to chant the Marseilles Hymn and the Carmag- 
nole resounded through the streets. In the midst of this excite- 
ment, the ringing of the bells and the firing of cannon announced 
that Citizen Genet was arrived at Powles Hook Ferry, directly 
opposite the city. There was an immediate assemblage of the 
republican party in the fields now called the Park. A committee 
was appointed to escort Genet into the city. He entered it amid the 
almost frantic cheerings of the populace. " The cause of France 
is the cause of America," cried the enthusiasts, " it is time to dis- 
tinguish its friends from its foes." The tri-colored cockade figured 
in the iTats of the shouting multitude ; tri-colored ribbons fluttered 
from the dresses of females in the windows ; the French flag was 
hoisted on the top of the Tontine Coffee House (the City Ex- 
change), surmounted by the cap of liberty. Can we wonder that 
what little discretion Genet possessed, was completely overborne 
by this tide of seeming popularity ? In the midst of his self-gratu- 
lation and complacency, however, he received a letter from Jeffer- 
son (Sept. 15th), acquainting him with the measures taken to pro- 
cure his recall, and inclosing a copy of the letter written for that 
purpose to the American minister at Paris. Meantime out of 
anxious regard lest the interests of France might suffer, the 
Executive would admit the continuance of his functions so long as 
they should be restrained within the law, and should be of the 
tenor usually observed towards independent nations, by the repre- 
sentative of a friendly power residing with them. Genet resented 
the part Mr. Jefferson had taken, notwithstanding their cordial inti- 
macy, in the present matter, although this part had merely been 
the discharge of an official duty. " Whatever, Sir," writes Genet, 
"may be the result of the exploit of which you have rendered 
yourself the generous instrument, after having made me beheve 
that you were my friend, after having initiated me in the mysteries 
which have influenced my hatred against all those who aspire to 
absolute power, there is an act of justice which the American 
people, which the French people, which all free people are inter- 
ested in demanding ; it is, that a particular inquiry should be made, 
ia the approaching Congress, into the motives which have induced 
the chief of the executive power of the United States to take upon 
himself to demand the recall of a pubhc minister, whom the sover- 
eign people of the United States had received fraternally and 
recognized, before the diplomatic forms had been fulfilled in respect 
to him at Philadelphia." Unfortunately for Genet's ephemeral 
popularity, a rumor got abroad that he had expressed a determina- 
tion to appeal from the President to the people. This at first was 
contradicted, but was ultmately, estabhshed by a certificate of Chief 
Justice Jay and Mr. Rufus King, of the United States Senate, which 
was pubhshed in the papers. The spirit of audacity thus mani- 
fested by a foreign minister shocked the national pride. Meetings 
were held in every part of the Union to express the public feeling 



596 LIFE OF WASHING TON. 

in the matter. In these meetings the proclamation of neutrality 
and the system of measures flowing from it, were sustained, partly 
from a conviction of their wisdom and justice, but more from an 
undiminished affection for the person and character of Washing- 
ton ; for many who did not espouse his views, were ready to sup- 
port him in the exercise of his constitutional functions. 

The neutrality of the United States, so jealously guarded by 
Washington, was also put to imminent hazard by ill-advised 
measures of the British cabinet. There was such a scarcity in 
P' ranee, in consequence of the failure of the crops, that a famine 
vas apprehended. England, availing herself of her naval ascen- 
dency, determined to increase the distress of her rival by cutting 
off all her supplies from abroad. In June, 1793, therefore, her 
cruisers were instructed to detain all vessels bound to France with 
cargoes of corn, flour, or meal, take them into port, unload them, 
purchase the cargoes, make a proper allowance for the freight, and 
then release the vessels ; or to allow the masters of them, on a 
stipulated security, to dispose of their cargoes in a port in amity 
vith England. This measure gave umbrage to all parties in the 
United States, and brought out an earnest remonstrance from the 
government, as being a violation of the law of neutrals. Another 
grievance which helped to swell the tide of resentment against 
Cireat Britain, was the frequent impressment of American seamen, 
a wrong to which they were particularly exposed from national 
similarity. To these may be added her persistence in holding the 
posts to the south of the lakes, which, according to treaty stipula- 
tions, ought to have been given up. Washington did not feel him- 
self in a position to press our rights under the treaty, with the 
vigorous hand that some would urge ; questions having risen in 
some of the State courts, to obstruct the fulfillment of our part of 
it, which regarded the payment of British debts contracted before 
the war. 

Congress assembled on the 2d of Dec, (1793). Washington, in 
his opening speech, after expressing his deep and respectful sense 
of the renewed testimony of public approbation manifested in his 
reelection, proceeded to state the measures he had taken, in con- 
sequence of the war in Europe, to protect the rights and interests 
of the United States, and maintain peaceful relations with the 
belligerent parties. Still he pressed upon Congress the necessity 
of placing the country in a condition of complete defence. " There 
is a rank due to the United States among nations, which will be 
withheld, if not absolutely lost, by the reputation of weakness. If 
we desire to avoid insult, we must be able to repel it ; if we desire 
to secure peace — one of the most powerful instruments of our pros- 
perity — it must be known that we are, at all times, ready for war." 
In the spirit of these remarks, he urged measures to increase the 
amount of arms and ammunition in the arsenals, and to improve 
the militia establishment. One part of his speech conveyed an 
impressive admonition to the House of Representatives : **N<5 
pecuniary consideration is more urgent than the regular redemp- 



I793-] JEFFERSON ON FOREIGN TRADE, 597 

tion and discharge of the pubHc debt; in none can delay be more 
injurious, or an economy of time more valuable." 

In a message to both Houses, on the 5th of Dec, concerning 
foreign relations, Washington spoke feelingly with regard to those 
with the representative and executive bodies of France: " It is 
with extreme concern I have to inform you that the proceedings of 
the person whom they have unfortunately appointed their minister 
plenipotentiary here, have breathed nothing of the friendly spirit 
of the nation which sent him; their tendency, on the contrary, has 
been to involve us in war abroad, and discord and anarchy at home. 
So far as his acts, or those ^of his agents, have threatened our imme- 
diate commitment in the war, or flagrant insult to the authority of 
the laws, their effect has been counteracted by the ordinary cogni- 
zance of the laws, and by an exertion of the powers confided to 
me. Where their danger was not imminent, they have been borne 
with, from sentiments of regard for his nation ; from a sense of 
their friendship towards us ; and, I will add, from a rehance on the 
firmness of my fellow-citizens in their principles of peace and order." 
John Adams, speaking on this passage of the message, says : 
" The President has given Genet a bolt of thunder. Although he 
stands at present, as high in the admiration and confidence of the 
people as ever he did, I expect he will find many bitter and des- 
perate enemies arise in consequence of his just judgment against 
Genet." In fact, the choice of speaker showed that there was a ma- 
jority of ten against the administration, in the House of Represen- 
tatives ; yet it was manifest, from the affectionate answer on the 
6th, of the two Houses, to Washington's speech, and the satisfac- 
tion expressed at his reelection, that he was not included in the 
opposition which, from this act, appeared to await his political sys- 
tem. The House did justice to the purity and patriotism of the 
motives which had prompted him again to obey the voice of his 
country, when called by it to the Presidential chair. " It is to 
virtues which have commanded long and universal reverence, and 
services from which have flowed great and lasting benefits, that 
the tribute of praise may be paid, without the reproach of flattery; 
and it is from the same sources that the fairest anticipations may be 
derived in favor of the public happiness." As to his proclamation 
of neutrality, while the House approved of it in guarded terms, the 
Senate pronounced it a "measure well-timed and wise ; manifesting 
a watchful solicitude for the welfare of the nation, and calculated 
to promote it." 

Early in the session, Mr. Jefferson, in compliance with a requisi- 
tion which the House of Representatives had made, Feb. 23d, 
1791, furnished an able and comprehensive report of the state of 
trade of the United States with different countries ; specifying, also, 
the various restrictions and prohibitions by which our commerce 
was embarrassed, and, in some instances, almost ruined. "Two 
methods," he said, "presented themselves, by which these impedi- 
ments might be removed, modified, or counteracted. Friendly 
arrangements are preferable with all who would come into them, 
and we should carry into such arrangements all the liberality and 



598 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

spirit of accommodation which the nature of the case would admit. 
But should any nation continue its system of prohibitive duties and 
regulations, it behooves us to protect our citizens, their commerce, 
and navigation, by counter prohibitions, duties, and regulations." 
To effect this, he suggested a series of legislative measures of a 
retaliatory kind. With this able and elaborate report, he closed 
his labors as Secretary of State. His last act was a kind of part- 
ing gun to Mr. Genet. This restless functionary had, on the 20th 
of Dec, sent to him translations of the instructions given him by 
the executive council of France ; desiring that the President would 
lay them officially before both Houses of Congress, and proposing 
to transmit successively, other papers to be laid before them in 
like manner. Jefferson, on the 31st of Dec. informed Genet that 
he had laid his letter and its accompaniments before the President. 
" I have it in charge to observe," adds he, "that your functions as 
the missionary of a foreign nation here, are confined to the trans- 
actions of the affairs of your nation, with the Executive of the 
United States ; that the communications which are to pass between 
the executive and legislative branches, cannot be a subject for 
your interference, and that the President must be left to judge for 
himself what matters his duty or the public good may require him 
to propose to the deliberations of Congress. I have, therefore, the 
honor of returning you the copies sent for distribution." Washing- 
ton had been especially sensible of the talents and integrity dis- 
played by Jefferson during the closing year of his secretaryship, 
and particularly throughout this French perplexity, and had 
recently made a last attempt, but an unsuccessful one, to pursuade 
him to remain in the cabinet. On Dec. 31st, Jefferson wrote to 
Washington, reminding him of his having postponed his retirement 
from office until the end of the annual year. "That term being 
now arrived, I now take the liberty of resigning the office into your 
hands. Be pleased to accept with it my sincere thanks for all the 
indulgences which you have been so good as to exercise towards 
me in the discharge of its duties. I carry into my retirement a 
lively sense of your goodness, and shall continue gratefully to 
remember it." Washington replied : " I cannot suffer you to leave 
your station without assuring you, that the opinion which I had 
formed of your integrity and talents, and which dictated your 
original nomination, has been confiniied by the fullest experience, 
and that both have been eminently displayed in the discharge of 
your duty." The place thus made vacant in the cabinet was filled 
by Mr. Edmond Randolph, whose office of Attorney General was 
conferred on Mr. William Bradford, of Pennsylvania. 

No one seemed to throw off the toils of office with more delight 
than Jefferson : or to betake himself with more devotion to the 
simple occupations of rural life. It was his boast, in a letter to a 
friend written some time after his return to Monticello, that he had 
seen no newspaper since he had left Philadelphia, and he believed 
he should never take another newspaper of any sort. "I think it 
is Montaigne," writes he, "who has said, that ignorance is the 
softest pillow on which a man can rest his head. I am sure it is 



1794.] A WISE, A GOOD, AND A GREAT MAN. 599 

true as to everything political, and shall endeavor to estrange 
myself to everything of that character." We subjoin his compre- 
hensive character of Washington, the result of long observation 
and cabinet experience, and written in after years, when there was 
no temptation to insincere eulogy: "His integrity was the 

MOST pure; his justice the most inflexible I HAVE EVER 
KNOWN ; NO MOTIVES OF INTEREST OR CONSANGUINITY, OF 
FRIENDSHIP OR HATRED, BEING ABLE TO BIAS HIS DECISION. He 
WAS, INDEED, IN EVERY SENSE OF THE WORD, A WISE, A GOOD, 
AND A GREAT MAN." 

Events in Europe were full of gloomy portent. " The news of 
this evening," writes John Adams to his wife, on the 9th of Jan., 
"is, that the queen of France is no more. When will savages be 
satisfied with blood? No prospect of peace in Europe, therefore 
none of internal harmony in America. We cannot well be in a 
more disagreeable situation than we are with all Europe, with all 
Indians, and with all Barbary rovers. Nearly one-half of the 
Continent is in constant opposition to the other." He speaks of 
having had two hours' conversation with Washington alone in his 
cabinet, but intimates that he could not reveal the purport of it, 
even by a hint ; it had satisfied him, however, of Washington's 
earnest desire to do right ; his close application to discover it, and 
his deliberate and comprehensive view of our affairs with all the 
world. " The anti-federalists and the Frenchified zealots," adds 
Adams, "have nothing now to do that I can conceive of, but to 
ruin his character, destroy his peace, and injure his health. He 
supports all their attacks with firmness, and his health appears to 
be very good." 

The report of Mr. Jefferson on commercial intercourse, was soon 
taken up in the House in a committee of the whole. A series of 
resolutions based on it were introduced by Mr. Madison, and 
became the subject of a warm and acrimonious debate. The 
report upheld the policy of turning the course of trade from Eng- 
land to France, by discriminations in favor of the latter ; and the 
resolutions were to the same purport. Though the subject was, or 
might seem to be, of a purely commercial nature, it was inevitably 
mixed up with political considerations, according as a favorable 
inclination to England or France was apprehended. The debate 
waxed warm as it proceeded, with a strong infusion of bitterness. 
Fisher Ames stigmatized the resolutions as having French stamped 
upon the very face of them. Whereupon Col. Parker, of Virginia, 
wished that there were a stamp on the forehead of every one to 
designate whether he were for France or England. For himself, 
he would not be silent and hear that nation abused, to whom 
America was indebted for her rank as a nation. There was a 
burst of applause in the gallery; but the indecorum was rebuked 
by the galleries being cleared. The debate, which had com- 
menced on the 13th of Jan., (1794.) was protracted to the 3d of 
Feb., when the question being taken on the first resolution, it was 
carried by a majority of only five, so nearly were parties divided. 



6oo LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

The further consideration of the remaining resolutions was sus- 
pended in March, without a decision. 

Algerine corsairs had captured eleven American merchant vessels, 
and upwards of one hundred prisoners. A bill was introduced into 
Congress proposing a force of six frigates, to protect the commerce 
of the United States against the cruisers of this piratical power. 
The bill met with strenuous opposition. The force would require 
time to prepare it; and would then be insufficient. It might be 
laying the foundation of a large permanent navy and a great public 
debt. It would be cheaper to purchase the friendship of Algiers 
with money, as was done by other nations of superior maritime 
force, or to purchase the protection of those nations. It seems 
hardly credible at the present day, that such policy could have 
been urged before an American Congress, without provoking a 
burst of scorn and indignation ; yet it was heard without any emo- 
tion of the kind; and, though the bill was eventually passed by 
both Houses, it was but by a small majority. It received the 
hearty assent of the President. 

The French minister of foreign affairs had reprobated the con- 
duct of Genet as unauthorized by his instructions and deserving of 
punishment. Mr. Fauchet, secretary of the executive council, was 
appointed to succeed him, and arrived in the United States in 
February. 

We have noticed the orders issued by Great Britain to her cruis- 
ers in June, 1793, and the resentment thereby excited in the United 
States. On the 6th of Nov., 1793, Great Britain had given her 
cruisers instructions to detain all vessels laden with the produce of 
any colony belonging to France, or carrying supplies to any such 
colony, and to bring them, with their cargoes, to British ports, for 
adjudication in the British courts of admiralty. Captures of Ameri- 
can vessels were taking place in consequence of these orders, and 
heightening public irritation. They produced measures in Con- 
gress preparatory to an apprehended state of war. An embargo 
was laid, prohibiting all trade from the United States to any foreign 
place for the space of thirty days. On the 27th of March, resolu- 
tions were moved that all debts due to British subjects be seques- 
tered and paid into the treasury, as a fund to indemnify citizens of 
the United States for depredations sustained from British cruisers, 
and that all intercourse with Great Britain be interdicted until she 
had made compensation for these injuries, and until she should 
make surrender of the Western posts. The popular excitement 
was intense. Meetings were held on the subject of British spolia- 
tions. • Peace or war' was the absorbing question. The partisans 
of France were now in the ascendant. It was scouted as pusilla- 
nimous any longer to hold terms with England. It was suggested 
that those who were in favor of resisting British aggressions should 
mount the tri-colored cockade ; and forthwith it was mounted by 
many; while a democratic society was formed to correspond with 
the one at Philadelphia, and aid in giving effect to these popular 
sentiments. 

Washington received advices from Mr. Pinckney, the American 



' 1794] yO^JV JA Y ENVO V TO GREA T BRITAIN. 6oi 

minister in London, informing him that the British ministry had 
issued instructions to the commanders of armed vessels, revoking 
those of the 6th of Nov., and that Lord Grenville had explained the 
real motives ior that order, showing that, however oppressive in 
its execution, it had not been intended for the special vexation of 
American commerce. He laid Pinckney's letter before Congress 
on the 4th of April. It had its effect on both parties ; federalists 
opposed all measures calculated to irritate ; the other party did not 
press their belligerent propositions to any immediate decision, but 
showed no solicitude to avoid a rupture. Busy partisans saw that 
the feeling of the populace was belligerent, and every means were 
taken by the press and the democratic societies to exasperate this 
feeling ; according to them the crisis called, not for moderation, 
but for decision, for energy. To adhere to a neutral position, would 
argue tameness — cowardice! Washington, however, was too 
morally brave to be clamored out of his wise moderation by such 
taunts. He resolved to prevent a war if possible, by an appeal to 
British justice. John Jay, Chief Justice of the United States, was 
chosen as a special envoy to represent to the British government 
the injuries we had sustained from it, and to urge indemnification. 
"A mission like this," observes Washington in his message nominat- 
ing Mr. Jay, '* while it corresponds with the solemnity of the occa- 
sion, will announce to the world a solicitude for a friendly adjustment 
of our complaints and a reluctance to hostility. Going immedi- 
ately from the United States, such an envoy will carry with him a 
full knowledge of the existing temper and sensibility of our country, 
and will thus be taught to vindicate our rights with firmness, and 
to cultivate peace with sincerity." The nomination was approved 
by a majority of ten Senators. By this sudden and decisive meas- 
ure Washington sought to stay the precipitate impulses of public 
passion ; to give time to put the country into a complete state of 
defence, and to provide such other measures as might be necessary 
if negotiation, in a reasonable time, should prove unsuccessful. 

The French Government having so promptly complied with the 
wishes of the American government in recalling citizen Genet, 
requested, as an act of reciprocity, the recall of Gouverneur Mor- 
ris, whose pohtical sympathies were considered highly aristocrati- 
cal. Washington, in a letter to Morris notifying him of his being 
superseded, assured him of his own undiminished confidence and 
friendship. James Monroe, who was appointed in his place, 
arrived at Paris in a moment of great reaction. Robespieire had 
terminated his bloody career on the scaffold, and the reign of ter- 
ror was at end. The sentiments expressed by Monroe on deliver- 
ing his credentials, were so completely in unison with the feelings 
of the moment, that the President of the Convention embraced him 
with emotion, and it was decreed that the American and French 
flags should be entwined and hung up in the hall of the Conven- 
tion, in sign of the union and friendship of the two republics. 
Chiming in with popular impulse, Monroe presented the American 
flag to the Convention, on the part of his country. It was received 
with enthusiasm, and a decree was passed, that the national flag 



6o2 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

of France should be transmitted in return, to the government of 
the United States. 

Washington was becoming painfully aware that censorious eyes 
at home aere keeping a watch upon his administration, and cen- 
sorious tongues and pens were ready to cavil at every measure. 
" Tlie affairs of this country cannot go wrong," writes he ironically 
to Gouverneur Morris ; " there are so many watchful guardians 
of them^ and such infallible guides, that no one is at a loss for a 
director at every turn." This is almost the only instance of irony 
to be found in his usually plain, direct correspondence, and to us 
is mournfully suggestive of that soreness and weariness of heart 
with which he saw his conscientious policy misunderstood or mis- 
represented, and himself becoming an object of party hostihty. 

An insurrection had broken out in the western part of Pennsyl- 
vania on account of the excise law. Bills of indictment had been 
found against some of the rioters. The marshal, when on the way 
to serve the processes issued by the court, was fired upon by 
armed men, and narrowly escaped with his life. He was subse- 
quently seized and compelled to renounce the exercise of his official 
duties. The house of Gen. Nevil, inspector of the revenue, was 
assailed, but the assailants were repulsed. They assembled in 
greater numbers ; the magistrates and militia officers shrank from 
interfering, lest it should provoke a general insurrection ; a few 
regular soldiers were obtained from the garrison at Fort Pitt. The 
insurgents demanded that the inspector and his papers should be 
given up ; and the soldiers march out of the house and ground 
their arms. The demand being refused, the house was attacked, 
the outhouses set on fire, and the garrison was compelled to sur- 
render. The marshal and inspector finally escaped out of the 
country ; descended the Ohio, and, by a circuitous route, found 
their way to the seat of government. Washington deprecated the 
result of these outrageous proceedings. " If the laws are to be so 
trampled upon with impunity," said he, " and a minority, a small 
one too, is to dictate to the majority, there is an end put, at one 
stroke, to republican government." On the 7th of Aug. he issued 
a proclamation, warning the insurgents to disperse, and declaring 
that if tranquillity were not restored before the 1st of Sept., force 
would be employed to compel submission to the laws. He made 
a requisition on the governors of New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Mary- 
land and Virginia, for militia to compose an army of twelve thou- 
sand men ; afterwards augmented to fifteen thousand. The 
insurgents manifesting a disposition to persevere in their rebellious 
conduct, the President issued a second proclamation on the 25th 
of Sept. describing in forcible terms the perverse and obstinate 
spirit with which the lenient propositions of government had been 
met, and declaring his fixed purpose to reduce the refractory to 
obedience. Shortly after this he left Philadelphia for Carlisle, to 
join the army. On the 9th of Oct. he wrote from Carlisle to the 
Secretary of State: "The insurgents are alarmed, but not yet 
brought to their proper senses. Every means is devised by them 
and their friends and associates, to induce a belief that there is no 



1794.] WHISKEY INSURRECTION QUELLED, 603 

necessity for troops crossing the mountains ; although we have 
information, at the same time, that part of the people there are 
obliged to embody themselves to repel the insults of another part." 
On the loth, the Pennsylvania troops set out from Carlisle for their 
rendezvous at Bedford, and Washington proceeded to WilHams- 
port, thence to go on to Fort Cumberland, the rendezvous of the 
Virginia and Maryland troops. He arrived at the latter place on 
the 1 6th of Oct. and found a respectable force assembled from 
those States, and learnt that fifteen hundred more from Virginia 
were at hand. At Bedford he arranged matters and settled a plan 
of military operations. The Governors of Virginia, Maryland, and 
Pennsylvania, were at the head of the troops of their respective 
States. In a letter to Gov. Lee, of Virginia, (Light-Horse Harry) 
on leaving him in command, he conveyed to the army the very 
high sense he entertained "of the enlightened and patriotic zeal 
for the constitution and the laws which had led them cheerfully to 
quit their families, homes, and the comforts of private life, to 
undertake, and thus far to perform, along and fatiguing march, 
and to encounter and endure the hardships and privations of a 
military life. No citizens of the United States can ever be 
engaged in a service more important to their country. It is noth- 
ing less than to consolidate and to preserve the blessings of that 
revolution which, at much expense of blood and treasure, consti- 
tuted us a free and independent nation." 

Washington pushed on for Philadelphia, through deep roads and 
a three days* rain, and arrived there about the last of October. 
Gov. Lee marched with fifteen thousand men into the western 
counties of Pennsylvania. This great military array extinguished 
at once the kindling elements of a civil war, •• by making resistance 
desperate." At the approach of so overwhelming a force the 
insurgents laid down their arms, gave assurance of submission, and 
craved the clemency of government. It was extendea to them. 
A few were tried for treason, but were not convicted ; but as some 
spirit of discontent was still manifest, Major-Gen. Morgan was 
stationed with a detachment, for the winter, m the disaffected 
region. It must have been a proud satisfaction to Washington to 
have put down, without an effusion of blood, an insurrection 
which, at one time, threatened such serious consequences. In his 
speech on the opening of Congress (Nov. igth), he did not hesitate 
to denounce "certain self-created societies" as " fomenters of it." 
After detailing its commencement and progress, he observes : 
" While there is cause to lament that occurrences of this nature 
should have disgraced the name or interrupted the tranquillity of 
any part of our community, or should have diverted to a new 
application any portion of the public resources, there are not want- 
ing real and substantial consolations for the misfortune. It has 
demonstrated, that our prosperity rests on solid foundations ; by 
furnishing an addidonal proof that my fellow-citizens understand 
the true principles of government and liberty ; that they feel their 
inseparable union ; that, notwithstanding all the devices which 
have been used to sway them from their interest and duty, they 



6o4 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

are now as ready to maintain the authority of the laws against 
licentious invasions, as they were to defend their rights against 
usurpation. It has been a spectacle, displaying to the highest 
advantage the value of repubhcan government, to behold the most 
and least wealthy of our citizens standing in the same ranks as 
private soldiers ; pre-eminently distinguished by being the army of 
the constitution ; undeterred by a march of three hundred miles 
over rugged mountains, by the approach of an inclement season, or 
by any other discouragement. To every description, indeed, of 
citizens, let praise be given ; but let them persevere in their affec- 
tionate vigilance over that precious depository of American happi- 
ness, the constitution of the United States. Let them cherish it, 
too, for the sake of those who, from every clime, are daily seeking 
a dwelHng in our land." 

It was with great satisfaction that Washington had been able to 
announce favorable intelligence of the campaign of Gen. Wayne 
against the hostile Indians west of the Ohio. In the spring (of 
1794), that brave commander had advanced cautiously into the 
wild country west of his winter encampment on the Ohio, skirmish- 
ing with bands of lurking savages, and establishing posts to keep 
up communication, and secure the transmission of supplies. It 
was not until the 8th of August that he arrived at the junction of 
the rivers Au Glaize and Miami in a fertile and populous region, 
where the Western Indians had their most important villages. 
Here he threw up some works, which he named Fort Defiance. 
Being strengthened by 1,100 mounted volunteers from Kentucky, 
his force exceeded that of the savage warriors, which scarcely 
amounted to 2,000 men. These, however, were strongly encamped 
in the vicinity of Fort Miami, a British post, about thirty miles dis- 
tant, and far within the Hmits of the United States, and seemed 
prepared to give battle, expecting, possibly, to be aided by the 
British garrison. Wayne's men were eager for a fight. In aletter 
to his old comrade Knox, secretary of war, he writes, "Though 
now prepared to strike, I have thought proper to make the enemy 
a last overture of peace, nor am I without hopes that they will Us- 
ten to it." The reply he received was such as to leave him in 
doubt of the intentions of the enemy. He advanced, therefore, 
with the precautions he had hitherto observed, hoping to be met in. 
the course of his march by deputies on peaceful missions. On the 
20th, his advanced guard was fired upon by an ambush concealed 
in a thicket, and an attack of horse and foot was made upon the 
enemy's position ; the Indians were roused from their lair with the 
point of the bayonet ; driven, fighting, for more than two miles, 
through thick woods, and pursued with great slaughter until within 
gunshot of the British Fort. "We remained," writes the general, 
• ' three days and nights on the banks of the Miami, in front of the field 
of battle, during which time all the houses and corn were consumed, 
or otherwise destroyed, for a considerable distance both above and 
below Fort Miami ; and we were within pistol-shot of the garrison of 
that place, who were compelled to remain quiet spectators of this gen- 
eral devastation and conflagration." It was trusted that this decis- 



1 795 -J TREATY WITH GREAT BRITAIN. 605 

ive battle, and the wide ravages of villages and fields of corn with 
which it was succeeded, would bring the Indians to their senses, 
and compel them to solicit the peace which they had so repeatedly 
rejected. 

In his official address to Congress, Washington had urged the 
adoption of some definite plan for the redemption of the public 
debt. A plan was reported by Mr. Hamilton, 20th January, 1795, 
which he had digested and prepared on the basis of the actual 
revenues, for the further support of public credit. The report em- 
braced a comprehensive view of the system which he had pursued, 
and made some recommendations, which after much debate were 
adopted. So closed Mr. Hamilton's labors as Secretary of the Treas- 
ury. He was succeeded in office by OHver Wolcott, of Connecti- 
cut, a man of judgment and ability, who had served as comptroller, 
and was familiar with the duties of the office. Knox likewise had 
given in his resignation at the close ofthe month of December. He 
was succeeded in the war department by Col. Timothy Pickering, at 
that time Postmaster-General. The session of Congress closed on 
the 3d of March, 1795. 

Washington had watched the progress of the mission of Mr. Jay 
to England, with an anxious eye. It was one of great delicacy, 
from the many intricate and difficult points to be discussed, and 
the various and mutual grounds of complaint to be adjusted. He 
hardly permitted himself to hope for its complete success. To 
'give and take,' he presumed would be the result. In the mean- 
time there were so many hot heads and impetuous spirits at home 
to be managed and restrained, that he was anxious the negotiation 
might assume a decisive form and be brought to a speedy close. 
At length, on the 7th of March, 1795, four days after the close of 
the session of Congress, a treaty arrived which had been negotiated 
by Mr. Jay, and signed by the ministers of the two nations on the 
19th of Nov. In a letter to Washington, which accompanied the 
treaty, Mr. Jay wrote : "To do more was impossible. I ought not 
to conceal from you that the confidence reposed in your personal 
character was visible and useful throughout the negotiation." 
Washington immediately made the treaty a close study ; some of 
the provisions were perfectly satisfactory ; of others, he did not 
approve ; on the whole, he considered it a matter, to use his own 
expression, of 'give and take,' and believing the advantages to out- 
weigh the objections, and that, as Mr. Jay alleged, it was the best 
treaty attainable, he made up his mind to ratify it, should it be ap- 
proved by the Senate. He kept its provisions secret, that the 
public mind might not be preoccupied on the subject. In the 
course of a few days, however, enough leaked out to be seized 
upon by the opposition press to excite public distrust, though 
not enough to convey a distinct idea of the merits of the instru- 
ment. In fact, the people were predisposed to condemn, because 
vexed that any overtures had been made towards a negotiation, 
such overtures having been stigmatized as cowardly and degrading. 
If it had been necessary to send a minister to England, said they, 
it should have been to make a downright demand of reparation 



6c6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

for wrongs inflicted on our commerce, and the immediate surrender 
of the Western posts. Mr, Jay arrived on the 28th of May, and 
found that during his absence in Europe he had been elected gov- 
ernor of the State of New York; an honorable election, the result 
of no effort nor intrigue, but of the public sense entertained by his 
native State, of his pure and exalted merit. He, in consequence, 
resigned the office of Chief Justice of the United States. The Sen- 
ate was convened by Washington on the 8th of June, and the 
treaty was laid before it, with its accompanying documents. The 
session was with closed doors, discussions were long and arduous, 
and the treaty underwent a scrutinizing examination. Tliie twelfth 
article provided for a direct trade between the United States and 
the British West India Islands, in American vessels not exceeding 
seventy tons burden, conveying the produce of the States or of the 
Islands ; but it prohibited the exportation of molasses, sugar, coffee, 
cocoa, or cotton, in American vessels, either from the United States 
or the Islands, to any part of the world. Under this article it was 
a restricted intercourse, but Mr. Jay considered the admission even 
of small vessels, to the trade of these Islands, an important advan- 
tage to the commerce of the United States. He had not sufficiently 
adverted to the fact that, among the prohibited articles, cotton was 
also a product of the Southern States. Its cultivation had been but 
recently introduced there; so that when he sailed for Europe hardly 
sufficient had been raised for domestic consumption, and at the 
time of signing the treaty very little, if any, had been exported. 
Still it was now becoming an important staple of the South. On 
the 24th of June, two-thirds of the Senate, the constitutional major- 
ity, voted for the ratification of the treaty, stipulating, however, 
that an article be added suspending so much of the twelfth article 
as respected the West India trade, and that the President be 
requested to open, without delay, further negotiation on this head. 
Here was a novel case to be determined. Could the Senate be 
considered to have ratified the treaty before the insertion of this 
new article? Was the act complete and final, so as to render it 
unnecessary to refer it back to that body ? Could the President 
put his final seal upon an act before it was complete ? After much 
reflection, Washington was satisfied of the propriety of ratifying 
the treaty with the qualification imposed by the Senate, The pop- 
ular discontent concerning it was daily increasing. The secrecy 
Avliich had been maintained with regard to its provisions was wrested 
into a cause of offence. Republics should have no secrets. The 
Senate should not have deliberated on the treaty with closed doors. 
Such was the irritable condition of the public mind when, on the 
29th of June, a senator of the United States (Mr, Mason of Vir- 
ginia) sent an abstract of the treaty to be published in a leading 
opposition paper in Philadelphia. The whole country was imme- 
diately in a blaze. Besides the opposition party, a portion of the 
Cabinet was against the ratification. The attack upon it was vehe- 
ment and sustained. Meetings to oppose it were held in Boston, 
New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Charleston. The smaller 
towns throughout the Union followed their example. In New 



1 795 • j SEEK TR UTH AND PURS UE IT STEAD IL V. 607 

York, a copy of the treaty was burnt before the governor's house. 
In Philadelphia, it was suspended on a pole, carried about the 
streets, and finally burnt in front of the British minister's house, 
amid the shoutings of the populace. News came that the order of 
the British government of the 8th of June, 1793, for the seizure of 
provisions in vessels going to French ports, was renewed. Wash- 
ington instantly directed that a strong memorial should be drawn 
up against this order ; as it seemed to favor a construction of the 
treaty which he was determined to resist. "While this memorial 
was in course of preparation, he was called off to Mount Vernon. 
On his way thither, though little was said to him on the subject of 
the treaty, he found, he says, from indirect discourses, that en- 
deavors were making to place it in all the odious points of view of 
which it was susceptible, and in some which it would not admit. 
Never, during his administration, had he seen a crisis, in his judg- 
ment, so pregnant with interesting events. The public clamor con- 
tinued, but did not shake his purpose. " There is but one straight 
course y' said he, "and that is to seek truth and pursue it stead- 
ily. 

The difficult and intricate questions pressing upon the attention 
of government left Washington little mood to enjoy the retirement 
of Mount Vernon, being constantly in doubt whether his presence 
in Philadelphia were not necessary. He returned there on August 
nth. The predominant object of his thoughts recently had been 
to put a stop to the public agitation on the subject of the treaty. 
On the next day, therefore, (12th), he brought before the cabinet 
the question of immediate ratification. All the members were in 
favor of it excepting Mr. Randolph. It was finally agreed to 
accompany the ratification with a strong memorial against the pro- 
vision order. The ratification was signed by Washington on the 
1 8th of August. 

During the late agitations, George Washington Lafayette, the son 
of the General, had arrived at Boston under the name of Motier, 
accompanied by his tutor, M. Frestel, and had written to Washington 
apprising him of his arrival. It was an embarrassing moment to 
Washington. The letter excited his deepest sensibihty, bringing with 
it recollections of Lafayette's merits, services, and sufferings, and of 
their past friendship, and he resolved to become " father, friend, pro- 
tector, and supporter" to his son. Caution was necessary, not to 
endanger the situation of the young man himself, and of his mother 
and friends whom he had left behind. Philadelphia would not be 
an advisable residence for him at present, until it was seen what 
opinions would be excited by his arrival ; as Washington would for 
some time be absent from the seat of government, while all the 
foreign functionaries were residing there, particularly those of his 
own nation. It was thought best that young Lafayette should pro- 
ceed to New York, and remain in retirement, at the country house 
of a friend in its vicinity, pursuing his studies with his tutor, until 
Washington should direct otherwise. 

In his speech at the opening of the session of Congress in De- 
cember, Washington presented a cheerful summar}' of the events 



6o8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

of the year. " I trust I do not deceive myself," said he, " while I 
indulge the persuasion, that I have never met you at any period 
when, more than at present, the situation of our public affairs has 
afforded just cause for mutual congratulation, and for inviting you 
to join with me in profound gratitude to the Author of all good, for 
the numerous and extraordinary blessings we enjoy." He announced 
that a treaty had been concluded provisionally, confirmed by a 
definitive treaty on the 7th of August, by Gen. Wayne, with the 
Indians northwest of the Ohio, by which the termination of the long, 
expensive, and distressing war with those tribes was placed at the 
option of the United States. "In the adjustment of the terms," 
said he, " the satisfaction of the Indians was deemed an object 
worthy no less of the policy than of the liberality of the United 
States, as the necessary basis of durable tranquillity. This object, 
it is believed, has been fully attained. The articles agreed upon 
will immediately be laid before the Senate, for their consideration." 
A letter from the Emperor of Morocco, recognizing a treaty which 
had been made with his deceased father, insured the continuance 
of peace with that power. The terms of a treaty with the Dey and 
regency of Algiers had been adjusted in a manner to authorize the 
expectation of a speedy peace in that quarter, and the liberation of 
a number of American citizens from a long and grievous captivity. 
A speedy and satisfactory conclusion was anticipated of a negotia- 
tion with the court of Madrid, " which would lay the foundation 
of lasting harmony with a power whose friendship we have uni- 
formly and sincerely desired to cherish." In regard to internal 
affairs, every part of the Union gave indications of rapid and vari- 
ous improvement. "With burthens so light as scarcely to be per- 
ceived ; with resources fully adequate to present exigencies ; with 
governments founded on the genuine principles of rational liberty ; 
and with mild and wholesome laws, was it too much to say that 
our country exhibited a spectacle of national happiness never sur- 
passed, if ever before equalled ? " In regard to the late insurrec- 
tion : " The misled have abandoned their errors, and pay the 
respect to our constitution and laws which is due from good citi- 
zens to the pubhc authorities. These circumstances have induced 
me to pardon generally the offenders here referred to, and to extend 
forgiveness to those who had been adjudged to capital punish- 
ment." There was, as usual, a cordial asswer from the Senate ; 
but, in the present House of Representatives, as in the last one, 
the opposition were in the majority. In the response reported by 
a committee, one clause expressing undiminished confidence in 
the chief magistrate was demurred to ; it was recommitted, and 
the clause objected to modified. The following is the form adopted: 
" In contemplating that spectacle of national happiness which our 
country exhibits, and of which you, sir, have been pleased to make 
an interesting summary, permit us to acknowledge and declare 
the very great share which your zealous and faithful services have 
contributed to it, and to express the affectionate attachment which 
we feel for your character." 

The first day of January, being "a day of general joy and con- 



1796.] PAPERS REFUSED TO THE HOUSE. 609 

gratulation," had been appointed by Washington to receive the 
colors of France, sent out by the Committee of Safety. On that 
day they were presented by Mr. Adet, the successor of Mr. 
Fauchet, as minister to the United States, with an address, repre- 
senting, in glowing language, the position of France, " struggling 
not only for her own liberty, but for that of the human race. Assimi- 
lated to or rather identified with free people by the form of her 
government, she saw in them only friends and brothers. Long 
accustomed to regard the American people as her most faithful 
allies, she sought to draw closer the ties already formed in the 
fields of America, under the auspices of victory, over the ruins of 
tyranny." Washington received the colors with lively sensibility 
and a brief reply, expressive of the deep solicitude and high admi- 
ration produced by the events of the French struggle, and his joy 
that the interesting revolutionary movements of so many years had 
issued in the formation of a constitution designed to give perma- 
nency to the great object contended for. 

In February the treaty with Great Britain, as modified by the 
advice of the Senate, came back ratified by the king of Great 
Britain, and on the last of the month a proclamation was issued by 
the President, declaring it to be the supreme law of the land. The 
opposition in the House of Representatives were offended that 
\Vashington should issue this proclamation before the sense of that 
body had been taken on the subject, and denied the ^ower of the 
President and Senate to complete a treaty without its sanction. 
They passed a resolution requesting the President to lay before the 
House the instructions to Mr. Jay, and the correspondence and 
other documents relative to the treaty. Washington, believing 
that these papers could not be constitutionally demanded, with the 
assistance of the heads of departments and the Attorney-General, 
prepared and sent in to the House an answer to their request. In 
this he dwelt upon the necessity of caution and secrecy in foreign 
negotiations, as one cogent reason for vesting the power of making 
treaties in the President, with the advice and consent of the Sen- 
ate, the principle on which that body was formed, confining it to a 
small number of members. To admit a right in the House of Rep- 
resentatives to demand and have all the papers respecting a foreign 
negotiation would, he observed, be to establish a dangerous prec- 
edent. "As, therefore, it is perfectly clear to my understanding 
that the assent of the House of Representatives is not necessary to 
the validity of a treaty ; as the treaty with Great Britain exhibits 
itself in all the objects requiring legislative provision ; and on these 
the papers called for can throw no light ; and as it is essential to 
the due administration of the government, that the boundaries fixed 
by the constitution between the different departments should be 
observed, a just regard to the constitution and to the duty of my 
office, under all the circumstances of this case, forbid a compli- 
ance with your request." A resolution to make provision for car- 
rying the treaty into effect, gave rise to an animated and protracted 
debate. It soon became apparent that the popular feehng was with 
the minority in the House of Representatives, who favored the making 
20 



6io LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

of the necessary appropriations. The public will prevailed, and, on 
the last day of April, the resolution was passed, though by a close 
vote of fifty-one to forty-eight. 

For some months past, iMr. Thomas Pinckney had been solicit- 
ous to be relieved from his post of Minister Plenipotentiary at Lon- 
don. Rufus King, of New York, was nominated to the Senate on 
the 19th of May, to succeed him ; and his nomination was con- 
firmed. On the ist of June, this session of Congress terminated. 

Shortly after the recess of Congress another change was made in 
the foreign diplomacy. Mr. Monroe, when sent envoy to France, 
had been especially instructed to explain the views and conduct of 
the United States in forming the treaty with England ; and had 
been amply furnished with documents for the purpose. From 
his own letters, however, it appeared that he had omitted to use 
them. Whether this rose from undue attachment to France, from 
mistaken notions of American interests, or from real dislike to the 
treaty, the result was the very evil he had been instructed to pre- 
vent. The French government misconceived the views and con- 
duct of the United States, suspected their policy in regard to Great 
Britain, and when aware that the House of Representatives would 
execute the treaty made by Jay, became bitter in their resentment. 
Symptoms of this appeared in the capture of an American mer- 
chantman by a P'rench privateer. Under these circumstances it 
was deemed expedient by Washington and his cabinet, to recall 
Mr. Monroe, and appoint another American citizen in his stead. 
The person chosen was Charles Cotesworth Pinckney of South Car- 
olina, elder brother of the late minister to London. Still the resent- 
ful policy of the French continued, and, in October, they issued 
an arret ordering the seizure of British property found on board 
of American vessels, and of provisions bound for England — a direct 
violation of their treaty with the United States. 

The period for the presidential election was drawing near, and 
great anxiety began to be felt that Washington would consent to 
stand for a third term. No one, it was agreed, had greater claim 
to the enjoyment of retirement, in consideration of public services 
rendered; but it was thought the affairs of the country would be 
in a very precarious condition should he retire before the wars of 
Europe were brought to a close. Washington, however, had made 
up his mind irrevocably on the subject, and resolved to announce, 
in a farewell address, his intention of retiring. Such an instru- 
ment had been prepared for him from his own notes, by Mr. Madi- 
son, when he had thought of retiring at the end of his first term. 
As he was no longer in confidential intimacy with Mr. Madison, he 
turned to Mr. Hamilton as his adviser and coadjutor : " If you 
should think it best to throw the whole into a different form," 
writes Washington, "let me request, notwithstanding, that my 
draft may be returned to me (along with yours) with such amend- 
ments and corrections as to render it as perfect as the formation is 
susceptible of; curtailed if too verbose, and relieved of all tautol- 
ogy not necessary to enforce the ideas in the original or quoted 
part. My wish is, that the whole may appear in a plain style; 



1796.] WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 6il 

and be handed to the public in an honest, unaffected, simple garb." 
We forbear to go into the vexed question concerning this address; 
how much of it is founded on Washington's original "notes and 
heads of topics; " how much was elaborated by Madison, and 
how much is due to Hamilton's recasting and revision. The 
whole came under the supervision of Washington; and the instru- 
ment, as submitted to the press, was in his handwriting, with many 
ultimate corrections and alterations. Washington had no pride of 
authorship; his object always was to effect the purpose in hand, 
and for that he occasionally invoked assistance, to ensure a plain 
and clear exposition of his thoughts and intentions. The address 
certainly breathes his spirit throughout, is in perfect accordance 
with his words and actions, and "in an honest, unaffected, simple 
garb," embodies the system of policy on which he had acted 
throughout his administration. It was published in September, in 
a Philadelphia paper called the Daily Advertiser, and produced a 
great sensation. Several of the State legislatures ordered it to be 
put on their journals. "The President's declining to be again 
elected," writes the elder Wolcott, "constitutes a most important 
epoch in our national affairs. The country meets the event with 
reluctance, but they do not feel that they can make any claim for 
the further services of a man who has conducted their armies 
through a successful war; has so largely contributed to establish a 
national government; has so long presided over our councils and 
directed the public administration, and in the most advantageous 
manner settled all national differences, and who can leave the ad- 
ministration where nothing but our folly and internal discord can 
render the country otherwise than happy." 

Congress formed a quorum on the 5th day of December, the 
first day of the session which succeeded the publication of the 
Farewell Address. On the 7th, Washington met the two Houses 
of Congress for the last time. In his speech he recommended an 
institution for the improvement of agriculture, a military academy, 
a national university, and a gradual increase of the navy. The 
disputes with France were made the subject of the following re- 
marks : " Our trade has suffered and is suffering extensive injuries 
in the West Indies from the cruisers and agents of the French Re- 
public. It has been my constant, sincere, and earnest wish, in 
conformity with that of our nation, to maintain cordial harmony 
and a perfectly friendly understanding with that Republic. This 
wish remains unabated; and I shall persevere in the endeavor to 
fulfil it to the utmost extent of what shall be consistent with a just 
and indispensable regard to the rights and honor of our country; 
nor will I easily cease to cherish the expectation, that a spirit of 
justice, candor and friendship, on the part of the Republic, will 
eventually ensure success." In concluding his address he ob- 
serves, " The situation in which I now stand for the last time in 
the midst of the representatives of the people of the United States, 
naturally recalls the period when the adminstration of the present 
form of government commenced, and I cannot omit the occasion 
to congratulate you and my country on the success of the experi- 



6i2 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

ment, nor to repeat my fervent supplications to the Supreme Ruler 
of the universe and Sovereign Arbiter of nations, that his provi- 
dential care maybe still extended to the United States; that the 
virtue and happiness of the people may be preserved, and that the 
government which they have instituted for the protection of their 
liberties may be perpetual." 

The Senate, in their reply to the address, after concurring in its 
views of the national prosperity, as resulting from the excellence 
of the constitutional system and the wisdom of the legislative pro- 
visions, added, that they would be deficient in gratitude and justice 
did they not attribute a great portion of these advantages to the 
virtue, firmness and talents of his administration, conspicuously 
displayed in the most trying times, and on the most critical occa- 
sions. RecaUing his arduous services, civil and military, as well 
during the struggles of the revolution as in the convulsive period 
of a later date, their warmest affections and anxious regards would 
accompany him in his approaching retirement. The reply of the 
House concluded by a warm expression of gratitude and admira- 
tion, inspired by the virtues and the services of the President, by 
his wisdom, firmness, moderation, and magnanimity; and testify- 
ing to the deep regret with which they contemplated his intended 
retirement from office. " May you long enjoy that liberty which 
is so dear to you, and to which your name will ever be so dear," 
added they. " May your own virtue and a nation's prayers obtain 
the happiest sunshine for the decline of your days, and the choicest 
of future blessings. P^or our country's sake, and for the sake of 
republican liberty, it is our earnest wish that your example may be 
the guide of your successors; and thus, after being the ornament 
and safeguard of the present age, become the patrimony of our 
descendants." The reverence and affection expressed for him in 
both Houses of Congress, and their regret at his intended retire- 
ment, were in unison with testimonials from various State legisla- 
tures and other public bodies, which were continually arriving 
since the publication of his Farewell Address. 

In the month of February the votes taken at the recent election 
were opened and counted in Congress ; when Mr. Adams, having 
the highest number, was declared President, and Mr. Jefferson, 
having the next number. Vice President ; their term of four years 
to commence on the 4th of March next ensuing. Washington 
now began to count the days and hours that intervened between 
him and his retirement. On the day preceding it, he writes to his 
old fellow-soldier and political coadjutor, Henry Knox: "To the 
wearied traveller, who sees a resting-place, and is bending his 
body to lean thereon, I now compare myself; but to be suffered to 
do this in peace, is too much to be endured by some. The con- 
solation, however, which results from conscious rectitude, and the 
approving voice of my country, unequivocally expressed by its 
representatives, deprive their sting of its poison. The remainder 
of my life, which in the course of nature cannot be long, will be 
occupied in rural amusements ; and though I shall seclude myself 
as much as possible from the noisy and bustling world, none 



1/97-] ADAMS SUCCEEDS WASHINGTON. 613 

would, more than myself, be regaled by the company of those I 
esteem, at Mount Vernon; more than twenty miles from which, 
after I arrive there, it is not hkely that I shall ever be." On the 3d 
of March, the last day of his official career, he gave a kind of 
farewell dinner to the foreign ministers and their wives, Mr. and 
Mrs. Adams, Mr. Jefferson, and other conspicuous personages of 
both sexes. "During the dinner much hilarity prevailed," says 
Bishop White, who was present. When the cloth was removed 
Washington filled his glass: "Ladies and gentlemen," said he, 
"this is the last time I shall drink your health as a public man; I 
do it with sincerity, wishing you all possible happiness." The 
gayety of the company was checked in an instant; all felt the im- 
portance of this leave-taking; Mrs. Liston, the wife of the British 
minister, was so much affected that tears streamed down her 
cheeks. On the 4th of March, an immense crowd had gathered 
about Congress Hall. At eleven o'clock, Mr. Jefferson took the 
oath as Vice President in the presence of the Senate ; and pro- 
ceeded with that body to the Chamber of the House of Represent- 
atives, which was densely crowded, many ladies occupying chairs 
ceded to them by members. After a time, Washington entered 
amidst enthusiastic cheers and acclamations, and the waving of 
handkerchiefs. Having taken the oath of office, Mr. Adams, 
in his inaugural address, spoke of his predecessor as one "who, 
by a long course of great actions, regulated by prudence, justice, 
temperance, and fortitude, had merited the gratitude of his fellow- 
citizens, commanded the highest praises of foreign nations, and 
secured immortal glory with posterity." At the close of the cere- 
mony, as Washington moved toward the door to retire, there was 
a rush from the gallery to the corridor that threatened the loss of 
life or limb, so eager were the throng to catch a last look of one 
who had so long been the object of public veneration. When 
Washington was in the street he waved his hat in return for the. 
cheers of the multitude, his countenance radiant with benignity, 
his gray hairs streaming in the wind. The crowd followed him to 
his door; there, turning round, his countenance assumed a grave 
and almost melancholy expression, his eyes were bathed in tears, 
his emotions were too great for utterance, and only by gestures 
could he indicate his thanks and convey his farewell blossmg. In 
the evening a splendid banquet was given to him by the principal 
inhabitants of Philadelphia in the Amphitheatre, which was dec- 
orated with emblematical paintings. All the heads of depart- 
ments, the foreign ministers, several officers of the late army, and 
various persons of note, were present. Among the paintings, one 
represented the home of his heart, the home to which he was about 
to hasten— Mount Vernon. 



6i4 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

WASHINGTON AT MOUNT VERNON — HIS DEATH — CHARACTER. 

His official career being terminated, Washington set off for 
Mount Vernon accompanied by Mrs. Washington, her grand- 
daughter Miss Nelly Custis, and George Washington Lafayette, 
with his preceptors. Of the enthusiastic devotion manifested 
towards him wherever he passed, he takes the following brief and 
characteristic notice: "The attentions we met with on our journey 
were very flattering, and to some, whose minds are differently 
formed from mine, would have been highly rehshed ; but I avoided, 
in every instance where I had any previous notice of the intention, 
and could, by earnest entreaties, prevail, all parade and escorts." 

He is at length at Mount Vernon, that haven of repose to which 
he had so often turned a wishful eye, throughout his agitated and 
anxious life, and where he trusted to pass quietly and serenely the 
remainder of his days. He finds himself, however, "in the situa- 
tion of a new beginner; almost everything about him required 
considerable repairs, and a house is immediately to be built for the 
reception and safe keeping of his military, civil, and private papers." 
"In a word," writes he, "I am already surrounded by joiners, 
masons, and painters, and such is my anxiety to be out of their 
hands, that I have scarcely a room to put a friend into, or to sit in 
myself, without the music of hammers and the odoriferous scent of 
paint." Still he is at Mount Vernon, and as the spring opens the 
rural beauties of the country exert their sweetening influence. In 
a letter to his friend Oliver Wolcott, who, as Secretary of the 
Treasury, was still acting on "the great theatre," he adverts but 
briefly to pubhc affairs. "For myself," adds he, exultingly, 
"having turned aside from the broad walks of political into the 
narrow paths of private life, I shall leave it with those whose duty 
it is to consider subjects of this sort, and, as every good citizen 
ought to do, conform to whatsoever the ruhng powers shall decide. 
To make and sell a little flour annually, to repair houses going fast 
to ruin, to build one for the security of my papers of a pubhc 
nature, and to amuse myself in agricultural and rural pursuits, 
will constitute employment for the few years I have to remain on 
this terrestrial globe. If, also, I could now and then meet the 
friends I esteem, it would fill the measure and add zest to my en- 
joyments ; but, if ever this happens, it must be under my own vine 
and fig-tree." And again, to another friend he indulges in 
pleasant anticipations: "Retired from noise myself and the re- 
sponsibility attached to public employment, my hours will glide 
smoothly on. My best wishes, however, for the prosperity of our 
country will always have the first place in my thoughts ; while to 
repair buildings and to cultivate my farms, which require close at- 
tention, will occupy the few years, perhaps days, I may be a so- 
journer here, as I am now in the sixty-fifth year of my peregrina- 



1797.] LIFE AT MOUNT VERNON. 615 

tion through life." A letter to his friend James Mc Henry, Secre- 
tary of War, furnishes a picture of his e very-day life. •• I am 
indebted to you," writes he, "for several unacknowledged letters ; 
but never mind that ; go on as if you had answers. You are at the 
source of information, and can find many things to relate, while I 
have nothing to say that could either inform or amuse a Secretary 
of War in Philadelphia. I might tell him that I begin my diurnal 
course with the sun ; that, if my hirelings are not in their places at 
that time, I send them messages of sorrow for their indisposition ; 
that, having put these wheels in motion, I examine the state of 
things further; that the more they are probed the deeper I find the 
wounds which my buildings have sustained, by an absence and 
neglect of eight years ; that, by the time I have accomplished these 
matters, breakfast (a little after seven o'clock,) is ready; that, 
this being over, I mount my horse and ride round my farms, which 
employs me until it is time to dress for dinner, at which I rarely 
miss seeing strange faces. How different this from having a few social 
friends at a cheerful board! The usual time of sitting at table, a 
walk, and tea bring me within the dawn of candle light ; previous 
to which, if not prevented by company, I resolve that, as soon as 
the glimmering taper supplies the place of the great luminary, I 
will retire to my writing table and acknowledge the letters I have 
received ; but when the lights are brought I feel tired and disin- 
clined to engage in this work, conceiving that the next night will 
do as well." In his solitary rides about Mount Vernon and its 
Avoodlands, fond and melancholy thoughts would occasionally 
sadden the landscape, as his mind reverted to past times and early 
associates. In a letter to Mrs. S. Fairfax, now in England, he 
writes : " It is a matter of sore regret when I cast my eyes toward 
Belvoir, which I often do, to reflect that the former inhabitants of 
it, with whom we lived in such harmony and friendship, no longer 
reside there, and the ruins only can be viewed as the mementoes of 
former pleasures." The influx of strange faces soon became over- 
whelming, and Washington felt the necessity of having some one 
at hand to relieve him from a part of the self-imposed duties of 
Virginia hospitality. With this view he bethought him of his 
nephew, Lawrence Lewis, the same who had gained favor with 
him by volunteering in the Western expedition, and accompanying 
General Knox as aide-de-camp. Lawrence thenceforward became 
an occasional inmate at Mount Vernon. The place at this time 
possessed attractions for gay as well as grave, and was often en- 
livened by young company. One great attraction was Miss Nelly 
Custis, Mrs. Washington's grand-daughter, who, with her brother 
George W. P. Custis, had been adopted by the General at their 
father's death, when they were quite children, and brought up by 
him with the most affectionate care. He was fond of children, 
especially girls ; as to boys, with all his spirit of command, he 
found them at times somewhat ungovernable. I can govern men, 
would he say, but I cannot govern boys. Miss Nelly had grown 
up under the special eye of her grandmother, to whom she was 
devotedly attached, and who was particular in enforcing her 



6i6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

observance of all he-r lessons, as well as instructing her in the arts 
of housekeeping. She was a great favorite with the General ; 
whom she delighted with her gay whims and sprightly sallies, often 
overcoming his habitual gravity, and surprising him into a hearty 
laugh. She was now maturing into a lovely and attractive woman, 
and the attention she received began to awaken some solicitude in the 
General's mind. This is evinced in a half-sportive letter of advice 
written to her during a temporary absence from Mount Vernon, 
when she was about to make her first appearance at a ball at 
Georgetown. It is curious as a specimen of Washington's counsel in 
love matters. It would appear that Miss Nelly, to allay his solici- 
tude, had already, in her correspondence, professed "a perfect 
apathy toward the youth of the present day, and a determination 
never to give herself a moment's uneasiness on account of any of 
them." Washington doubted the firmness and constancy of her 
resolves. " Men and women," writes he, "feel the same incHna- 
tion towards each other 7iow that they always have done, and 
which they will continue to do, until there is a new order of things; 
and you, as others have done, may find that the passions of your 
sex are easier raised than allayed. Do not, therefore, boast too 
soon, nor too strongly of your insensibility. Love is said to be an 
involuntary passion, and it is, therefore, contended that it cannot 
be resisted. This is true in part only, for like all things else, when 
nourished and supplied plentifully with aliment, it is rapid in its 
progress; but let this be withdrawn, and it may be stifled in its birth, 
or much stinted in its growth. Although we cannot avoid yfrj/ im- 
pressions, we may assuredly place them under guard. When the 
fire is beginning to kindle and your heart growing warm, propound 
these questions to it: — Who is this invader? Have I a competent 
knowledge of him.? Is he a man of good character? A man of 
sense ? For, be assured, a sensible woman can never be happy 
with a fool. What has been his walk in life ? Is his fortune suf- 
ficient to maintain me in the manner I have been accustomed to 
live, and as my sisters do live? And is he one to whom my friends 
can have no reasonable objection? If all these interrogatories can 
be satisfactorily answered, there will remain but one more to 
be asked ; that, however, is an important one. Have I sufficient 
ground to conclude that his affections are engaged by me ? With- 
out this the heart of sensibility will struggle against a passion that 
is not reciprocated." The sage counsels of Washington, and the 
susceptible feehngs of Miss Nelly, were soon brought to the test by 
the residence of Lawrence Lewis at Mount Vernon. A strong at- 
tachment for her grew up on his part, or perhaps already existed, 
and was strengthened by daily intercourse. It was favorably 
viewed by his uncle. Whether it was fully reciprocated was un- 
certain. A formidable rival to Lewis appeared in the person of 
young Carroll of Carrollton, who had just returned from Europe, 
adorned with the graces of foreign travel, and whose suit was 
countenanced by Mrs. Washington. These were among the poetic 
days of Mount Vernon, when its halls echoed to the tread of lovers. 
They were halcyon days with Miss Nelly, as she herself declared, 



1797.] NELL V 'S MOONLIGHl^ RAMBLES. 617 

in after years, to a lady from whom we have the story : " I was 
young and romantic then," said she, "and fond of wandering 
alone by moonlight in the woods of Mount Vernon. Grandmamma 
thought it wrong and unsafe, and scolded and coaxed me into a 
promise that I would not wander in the woods again unaccom- 
panied. But I was missing one evening, and was brought home 
from the interdicted woods to the drawing-room, where the General 
was walking up and down with his hands behind him, as was his 
wont. Grandmamma, seated in her great arm-chair, opened a 
severe reproof." Poor Miss Nelly was reminded of her promise, 
and taxed with her dehnquency. She knew that she had done 
wrong — admitted her fault, and essayed no excuse ; but, when 
there was a slight pause, moved to retire from the room. She was 
just shutting the door when she overheard the General attempting, . 
in a low voice, to intercede in her behalf. "My dear," observed 
he, "I would say more — perhaps she was not alone." His inter- 
cession stopped Miss Nelly in her retreat. She reopened the door 
and advanced up to the General with a firm step. "Sir," said she, 
"you brought me up to speak the truth, and when I told Grand- 
mamma I was alone, I hope you believed L was alone.'' The Gen- 
eral made one of his most magnanimous bows. "My child," 
replied he, "I beg your pardon." We will anticipate dates, and 
observe that Miss Nelly became the happy wife of Lawrence Lewis. 

Early in the autumn, Washington had been relieved from his 
constant solicitude about the fortunes of Lafayette. Letters received 
by George W. Lafayette from friends in Hamburg, informed the 
youth that his father and family had been liberated from Olmutz 
and were on their way to Paris, with the intention of embarking 
for America. George and his tutor, Mr. Frestel, sailed from New 
York on the 26th of October. Washington writes from Mount 
Vernon to Lafayette: "This letter, I hope and expect, will be pre- 
sented to you by your son, who is highly deserving of such parents 
as you and your amiable lady. He can relate, much better than I 
can describe, my participation in your sufferings, my sohcitude for 
your grief; the measures I adopted, though ineffectual, to facilitate 
your Uberation from an unjust and cruel imprisonment, and the joy 
I experienced at the news of its accomplishment. I shall hasten, 
therefore, to congratulate you, and be assured that no one can do 
it with more cordiality, with more sincerity, or with greater affec- 
tion, on the restoration of that hberty which every act of your hfe 
entitles you to the enjoyment of; and I hope I may add, to the un- 
interrupted possession of your estates, and the confidence of your 
country." The hberation of the prisoners of Olmutz did not take 
place until the 19th of September, nor was it until in the following 
month of February that the happy meeting took place between 
George and his family, whom he found residing in the chateau of 
a relative in Holstein. 

Washington had been but a few months at Mount Vernon, when 
he received intelligence that his successor in office had issued a 
proclamation for a special session of Congress. He was not long 
in doubt as to its object. The French government had declared, 



6i8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

on the recall of Mr. Monroe, that it would not receive any new 

minister plenipotentiary from the United States until that power 
should have redressed the grievances of which the republic had 
complained. When Mr. Monroe had his audience of leave, Mr. 
Barras, the president of the Directory, said : "The French Republic 
hopes that the successors of Columbus, of Raleigh, and of Penn, 
ever proud of their liberty, will never forget that they owe it to 
France." A few days afterwards, when Mr. Charles Cotesworth 
Pinckney presented himself as successor to Mr. Monroe, the 
Directory refused to receive him, and followed up the indignity by 
ordering him to leave the territories of the republic. Its next step 
was to declare applicable to American ships the rules in regard to 
neutrals, contained in the treaty which Washington had signed 
with England. 

Congress convened on the 15th of May. Three envoys extraord- 
inary were appointed to the French republic, viz : Charles Cotes- 
worth Pinckney, John Marshall, and Elbridge Gerry ; the two 
former federalists, the latter a democrat. The object of their mis- 
sion, according to the President, was " to dissipate umbrages, 
remove prejudices, rectify errors, and adjust all differences by a 
treaty between the two powers." Washington doubted an adjust- 
ment of the differences. " Candor," said he, "is not a more con- 
spicuous trait in the character of governments than it is of individ- 
uals. It is hardly to be expected, then, that the Directory of 
France will acknowledge its errors and tread back its steps im- 
mediately." The three ministers met in Paris on the 4th of Octo- 
ber, (1797,) but were approached by Talleyrand in a manner 
which demonstrated that the avenues to justice could only be 
opened by gold. Talleyrand's agent said, " Gentlemen, you mis- 
take the point, you say nothing of the money you are to give — you 
viake no off er of money — on that point you are not cx'P licit.'' "We 
are explicit enough," rephed the American envoys. "We will not 
give you one farthing ; and before coming here, we should have 
thought such an offer as you now propose, would have been 
regarded as a mortal insult." The envoys remained several 
months in Paris unaccredited, and finally returned at separate 
times, without an official discussion of the object of their mission. 
The Directory enacted a law subjecting to capture and condemna- 
tion neutral vessels and their cargoes, if any portion of the latter 
was of British fabric or produce, although the entire property 
might belong to neutrals. As the United States were at the time 
the great neutral carriers of the world, this iniquitous decree struck 
at a vital point in their maritime power. When this act and the 
degrading treatment of the American envoys became known, the 
spirit of the nation was aroused, and war with France seemed 
inevitable. The crisis was at once brought to Washington's own 
door. "You ought to be aware," writes Hamilton to him, May 
19th, "that in the event of an open rupture with France, the pub- 
lic voice will again call you to command the armies of your coun- 
try ; and though all who are attached to you will deplore an occas- 
ion which should once more tear you from that repose to which you 



i798.] AGAIN COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF. 619 

have so good a right, yet it is the opinion of all those with whom I 
converse, that you will be compelled to make the sacrifice. All 
your past labors may demand, to give them efficacy, this farther, 
this very great sacrifice." 

The government was resolved upon vigorous measures. Congress 
on the 28th of May, authorized Mr. Adams to enhst ten thousand 
men as a provisional army, to be called by him into actual service, 
in case of hostilities. Adams was perplexed by the belligerent 
duties thus suddenly devolved upon him. How should he proceed 
in forming an army ? Should he call on all the old generals who 
had figured in the revolution, or appoint a young set 1 Washing- 
ton was nominated to the Senate (July 3d) commander-in-chief of 
all the armies raised or to be raised. His nomination was unani- 
mously confirmed on the following day, and the Secretary of War 
was the bearer of the commission to Mount Vernon, accompanied 
by a letter from the President. •' The reasons and motives," 
writes Mr. Adams in his instructions to the Secretary, " which pre- 
vailed with me to venture upon such a step as the nomination of 
this great and illustrious character, whose voluntary resignation 
alone occasioned my introduction to the office I now hold, were too 
numerous to be detailed in this letter, and are too obvious and 
important to escape the observation of any part of America or 
Europe. If the General should dechne the appointment, all the 
world will be silent and respectfully assent. If he should accept 
it, all the world, except the enemies of this country, will rejoice." 
It was with a heavy heart that Washington found his dream of re- 
pose once more interrupted ; but his strong fidelity to duty would 
not permit him to hesitate. He accepted the commission, however, 
with the condition that he should not be called into the field until 
the army was in a situation to require his presence. He added, in 
his letter to the President, " I beg it to be understood that I do not 
mean to withhold any assistance to arrange and organize the army, 
which you may think I can afford. I take the liberty, also, to men- 
tion that I must dechne having my acceptance considered as draw- 
ing after it any immediate charge upon the public ; or that I can 
receive any emoluments annexed to the appointment before enter- 
ing into a situation to incur expense." As to the question which 
had perplexed Mr. Adams whether, in forming the army, to call on 
all the old generals or appoint a new set, Washington's idea was 
that, as the armies about to be raised were commencing de novo, 
the President had the right to make officers of citizens or soldiers 
at his discretion, availing himself of the best aid the country 
afforded. In the arrangements made by him with the Secretary of 
War, Hamilton was to be Inspector-General, and Charles Cotes- 
worth Pinckney (not yet returned from Europe), and Knox, Major- 
Generals; in which order he wished their commissions to be dated. 
The appointment of Hamilton as second in command was desired 
by the public, on account of his distinguished ability, energy, and 
fidelity. Pinckney was placed next in rank, not solely on account 
of his military quahfications, which were great, but of his popular- 
ity and influence in the Southern States, where his connections were 



620 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

numerous and powerful. Thus Hamilton and Pinckney took prec- 
edence of Knox, an officer whom Washington declared he loved 
and esteemed ; but he trusted the exigencies of the case would rec- 
oncile the latter to the position assigned to him. Knox w-rote on 
the 23d of October to the Secretary of War, declining to serve 
under Hamilton and Pinckney, on the principle that " no officer can 
consent to his own degradation by serving in an inferior station." 
Gen. Pinckney, on the contrary, cheerfully accepted his appoint- 
ment, although placed under Hamilton, who had been of inferior 
rank to him in the last war. He regretted that General Knox had 
declined his appointment, and that his feelings should be hurt by 
being outranked. " If the authority," adds he, " which appointed 
me to the rank of second major in the army, will review the 
arrangement, and place General Knox before me, I will neither quit 
the service nor be dissatisfied." 

Early in November (1798) Washington repaired to Philadelphia, 
at the earnest request of the Secretary of War, to meet that public 
functionary and Major-Generals Hamilton and Pinckney, and make 
arrangements respecting the forces about to be raised. They were 
closely engaged for nearly five weeks, at great inconvenience and 
in a most inclement season. The result of their deliberations was 
communicated to the Secretary in two letters drafted by Hamilton, 
and signed by the commander-in-chief. Washington then set out 
once more for Mount Vernon. 

The nuptials of Lawrence Lewis, Washington's nephew, and 
IMiss Nellie Custis, were celebrated at Mount Vernon on Washing- 
ton's birthday, the 22d of February (1799). Lawrence had re- 
cently received the commission of major of cavalry in the new 
army which was forming ; and Washington made arrangements for 
settling the newly married couple near him on a part of Mount 
Vernon lands, which he had designated in his will to be bequeathed 
to Miss Nelly. 

The military measures taken in America had produced an effect 
on French policy. Efforts had been made by M. Talleyrand, 
through unofficial persons, to induce an amicable overture on the 
part of the United States. Mr. Adams caught at the chance for 
an extrication from his belligerent difficulties, and laid this letter 
before the Senate on the i8th of February, at the same time nom- 
inating Mr. Murray to be minister plenipotentiary to the French 
Republic. Oliver Ellsworth and Patrick Henry were associated 
with him in the mission. The three envoys being confirmed, Mr. 
MuiTay was instructed by letter to inform the French Minister of 
Foreign Affairs of the fact, but to apprise him that his associate 
envoys would not embark for Europe until the Directory had given 
assurance, through their Minister for Foreign Affairs, that those 
envoys Avould be received in proper form and treated with on terms 
of equality. Mr. Henry declined to accept his appointment on 
account of ill health, and Mr. William Richardson Davie was sub- 
stituted for him. Washington continued to superintend from a 
distance the concerns of the army, as his ample and minute cor- 
respondence manifests; and he was at the same time earnestly 



1799.] WASHINGTON'S SUDDEN ILLNESS. 621 

endeavoring to bring the affairs of his rural domain into order. A 
sixteen years' absence from home, with short intervals, had, he 
said, deranged them considerably, so that it required all the time 
he could spare from the usual avocations of life to bring them into 
tune again. It was a period of incessant activity and toil, there- 
fore, both mental and bodily. He was for hours in his study occu- 
pied with his pen, and for hours on horseback, riding the rounds of 
^his extensive estate, visiting the various farms, and superintending 
and directing the works in operation. All this he did with unfail- 
ing vigor, though now in his sixty-seventh year." Occasional 
reports of the sanguinary conflict that was going on in Europe 
would reach him in the quiet groves of Mount Vernon, and awaken 
his sohcitude. " A more destructive sword," said he, "was never 
drawn, at least in modern times, than this war has produced. It 
is time to sheathe it and give peace to mankind." Amid this strife 
and turmoil of the nations, he felt redoubled anxiety about the 
success of the mission to France. The commissioners sailed in 
a frigate from Rhode Island on the 3d of November. 

Winter had now set in, with occasional wind and rain and frost, 
yet Washington still kept up his active round of in-door and out- 
door avocations, as his diary records. He was in full health and 
vigor, dined out occasionally, and had frequent guests at Mount 
Vernon, and, as usual, was part of every day in the saddle, going 
the rounds of his estates, and, in his miHtary phraseology, "visiting 
the outposts." He had recently walked with his favorite nephew 
about the grounds, showing the improvements he intended to make, 
and had especially pointed out the spot where he purposed build- 
ing a new family vault; the old one being damaged by the roots 
of trees which had overgrown it and caused it to leak. "This 
change," said he, "I shall make the first of all, for I may require 
it before the rest." "When I parted from him," adds the neph- 
ew, "he stood on the steps of the front door. It was a bright 
frosty morning ; he had taken his usual ride, and the clear healthy 
flush on his cheek, and his sprightly manner, brought the remark 
from both of us that we had never seen the General look so well. 
I have sometimes thought him decidedly the handsomest man I 
ever saw; and when in a lively mood, so full of pleasantry, so 
agreeable to all with whom he associated, that I could hardly 
realize he was the same Washington whose dignity awed all who 
approached him." 

For some time past Washington had been occupied in digesting 
a complete system on which his estate was to be managed for 
several succeeding years ; specifying the cultivation of the several 
farms, with tables designating the rotations of the crops. It occu- 
pied thirty foho pages, and was executed with that clearness and 
method which characterized all his business papers. This was 
finished on the loth of December, and was accompanied by a 
letter of that date to his manager or steward. It is a valuable 
document, showing the soundness and vigor of his intellect at this 
advanced stage of his existence, and the love of order that reigned 
throughout his affairs. " My greatest anxiety," said he on a pre- 



622 LIFE OF WASHING TON. 

vious occasion, "is to have all these concerns in such a clear and 
distinct form, that no reproach may attach itself to me when I have 
taken my departure for the land of spirits." It was evident, how- 
ever, that full of health and vigor, he looked forward to his long- 
cherished hope, the enjoyment of a serene old age in this home of 
his heart. According to his diary, the morning on which these 
voluminous instructions to his steward were dated was clear and 
calm, but the afternoon was lowering. The next day (nth) he 
notes that there was wind and rain, and "at night a large circle 
round the moonS^ The morning of the I2th was overcast. That 
morning he wrote a letter to Hamilton, heartily approving of a plan 
for a miUtary academy, which the latter had submitted to the Sec- 
retary of War. "The establishment of an institution of this kind 
upon a respectable and extensive basis," observes he, " has ever 
been considered by me an object of primary importance to this 
country; and while I was in the chair of government I omitted no 
proper opportunity of recommending it in my public speeches and' 
otherwise, to the attention of the legislature." About ten o'clock 
he mounted his horse, and rode out as usual to make the rounds 
of the estate. The ominous ring round the moon, which he had 
observed on the preceding night, proved a fatal portent. "About 
one o'clock," he notes, it began to snow, soon after to hail, and 
then turned to a settled cold rain. Having on an over-coat, he 
continued his ride without regarding the weather, and did not 
return to the house until after three. His secretary approached 
him with letters to be franked, and perceived that snow was hang- 
ing from his hair, and expressed fears that he had got wet ; but 
he replied, "No, his great-coat had kept him dry." As dinner 
had been waiting for him, he sat down to table without changing 
his dress. " In the evening," writes his secretary, "he appeared 
as well as usual." On the following morning the snow was three 
inches deep and still falling, which prevented him from taking his 
usual ride. He complained of a sore throat, and had evidently 
taken cold the day before. In the afternoon the weather cleared 
up, and he went out on the grounds between the house and the 
river, to mark some trees which were to be cut down. A hoarse- 
ness which had hung about him through the day grew worse 
towards night, but he made light of it. He was very cheerful in 
the evening, as he sat in the parlor with Mrs. Washington and Mr. 
Lear, amusing himself with the papers which had been brought 
from the post-office. When he met with anything interesting or 
entertaining, he would read it aloud as well as his hoarseness would 
permit, or he listened and made occasional comments, while Mr. 
Lear read the debates of the Virginia Assembly. On retiring to 
bed, Mr. Lear suggested that he should take something to relieve 
the cold. "No," replied he, "you know I never take anything 
for a cold. Let it go as it came." In the night he was taken 
extremely ill with ague and difficulty of breathing. Between two 
and three o'clock in the morning he awoke Mrs. Washington, who 
would have risen to call a servant ; but he would not permit her, 
lest she should take cold. At daybreak, Mr. Lear found the gen- 



1 799-1 HIS LAST HOURS. 623 

eral breathing with difficulty, and hardly able to utter a word 
intelligibly. Washington desired that Dr. Craik, who lived in 
Alexandria, should be sent for, and that in the meantime Rawlins, 
one of the overseers, should be summoned, to bleed him before 
the doctor could arrive. A gargle was prepared for his throat, but 
whenever he attempted to swallow any of it, he was convulsed and 
almost suffocated, Rawlins made his appearance soon after sun- 
rise, but when the general's arm was ready for the operation, 
became agitated. " Don't be afraid," said the general, as well as 
he could speak, Rawlins made an incision. "The orifice is not 
large enough," said Washington, The blood, however, ran pretty 
freely, and Mrs, Washington, uncertain whether the treatment was 
proper, and fearful that too much blood might be taken, begged 
Mr. Lear to stop it. When he w^as about to untie the string the 
general put up his hand to prevent him, and as soon as he could 
speak, murmured, **more — more ; " but Mrs. Washington's doubts 
prevailed, and the bleeding was stopped, after about half a pint of 
blood had been taken. External applications were now made to 
the throat, and his feet were bathed in warm water, but without 
affording any relief. His old friend. Dr. Craik, arrived between 
eight and nine, and two other physicians, Drs. Dick and Brown, 
were called in. Various remedies were tried, and additional bleeding, 
but all of no avail. "About half past four o'clock," writes Mr. 
Lear, "he desired me to call Mrs. Washington to his bedside, when 
he requested her to go down into his room and take from his desk 
two wills, which she would find there, and bring them to him, 
which she did. Upon looking at them, he gave her one, which he 
observed Avas useless, as being superseded by the other, and 
desired her to burn it, which she did, and took the other and put 
it into her closet. After this was done, I returned to his bedside 
and took his hand. He said to me : ' I find I am going, my breath 
cannot last long. I believed from the first, that the disorder would 
prove fatal. Do you arrange and record all my late military 
letters and papers. Arrange my accounts and settle my books, as 
you know more about them than any one else ; and let Mr. Raw- 
lins finish recording my other letters which he has begun.' I told 
him this should be done. He then asked if I recollected anything 
which it was essential for him to do, as he had but a very short 
time to continue with us. I told him that I could recollect noth- 
ing ; but that I hoped he was not so near his end. He observed, 
smiling, that he certainly was, and that, as it was the debt \yhich 
we must all pay, he looked to the event with perfect resignation." 
In the course of the afternoon he appeared to be in great pain and 
distress from the difficulty of breathing, and frequently changed 
his posture in the bed. Mr. Lear endeavored to raise him and 
turn him with as much ease as possible. "I am afraid I fatigue 
you too much," the general would say. Upon beiwg assured to 
the contrary, "Well," observed he gratefully, "it is a debt we 
must pay to each other and I hope when you want aid of this kmd 
you will find it." His servant, Christopher, had been in the room 
durino- the dav, and almost tl>e whole time on his feet. The gen- 



624 LIFE 01^' U.x^MIA^TON. 

eral noticed it in the afternoon, and kindly told him to sit down. 
About five o'clock Dr. Craik came again into the room, and 
approached the bedside. " Doctor," said the general, " I die hard, 
but I am not afraid to go. I believed, from my first attack, that I 
should not survive it — my breath cannot last long." The doctor 
pressed his hand in silence, retired from the bedside, and sat by 
the fire absorbed in grief. Between five and six the other physi- 
cians came in, and he Avas assisted to sit up in his bed. "I feel I 
am going," said he ; "1 thank you for your attentions, but I pray 
you to take no more trouble about me; let me go off quietly; I 
cannot last long." He lay down again ; all retired excepting Dr. 
Craik. The general continued uneasy and restless, but without 
complaining, frequently asking what hour it was. Further reme- 
dies were tried without avail in the evening. He took whatever 
was offered him, did as he was desired by the physicians, and 
never uttered sigh or complaint. " About ten o'clock," writes Mr. 
Lear, "he made several attempts to speak to me before he could 
effect it. At length he said, ' I am just going. Have me decently 
buried, and do not let my body be put into the vault in less than 
three days after I am dead.' I bowed assent, for I could not 
speak. He then looked at me again and said, ' Do you under- 
stand me?' I replied, ' Yes.' ' 'Tis well,' said he. About ten min- 
utes before he expired (which was between ten and eleven o'clock) 
his breathing became easier. He lay quietly; he withdrew his 
hand from mine and felt his own pulse. I saw his countenance 
change. I spoke to Dr. Craik, who sat by the fire. He came to 
the bedside. The general's hand fell from his wrist. I took it in 
mine and pressed it to my bosom. Dr. Craik put his hands over 
his eyes, and he expired without a struggle or a sigh. While we 
were fixed in silent grief, Mrs. Washington, who was seated at the 
foot of the bed, asked with a firm and collected voice, ' Is he gone? ' 
I could not speak, but held up my hand as a signal that he was no 
more. ''Tis well,' said she in the same voice. 'All is now over; 
I shall soon follow him ; I have no more trials to pass through.' " 
We add from Mr. Lear's account a few particulars concerning 
the funeral. The old family vault on the estate had been opened, 
the rubbish cleared away, and a door made to close the entrance, 
which before had been closed with brick. The funeral took place 
on the 1 8th of December. About eleven o'clock the people of the 
neighborhood began to assemble. The corporation of Alexandria, 
with the militia and Free Masons of the place, and eleven pieces 
of cannon, arrived at a later hour. A schooner was stationed off 
Mount Vernon to fire minute guns. About three o'clock the pro- 
cession began to move, passing out through the gate at the left 
wing of the house, proceeding round in front of the lawn and down 
to the vault, on the right wing of the house ; minute guns being 
fired at the time. The troops, horse and foot, formed the escort; 
then came four of the clergy. Then the general's horse, with his 
saddle, holsters, and pistols, led by two grooms in black. The 
body was borne by the Free Masons and officers ; several mem- 
bers of the family and old friends,, among the number Dr. Craik, 



1799.] FIRST IN WAR, FIRST IN PEACE. 625 

and some of the Fairfaxes, followed as chief mourners. The cor- 
poration of Alexandria and numerous private persons closed the 
procession. The Rev. Mr. Davis read the funeral service at the 
vault, and pronounced a short address ; after which the Masons 
performed their ceremonies, and the body was deposited in the 
vault. Such were the obsequies of Washington, simple and mod- 
est, according to his own wishes ; all confined to the grounds of 
Mount Vernon, which, after forming the poetical dream of his 
life, had now become his final resting-place. 

On opening the will which he had handed to Mrs. Washington 
shortly before his death, it was found to have been carefully drawn 
up by himself in the preceding July; and by an act in conformity 
with his whole career, one of its first provisions directed the eman- 
cipation of his slaves on the decease of his wife. It had long been 
his earnest wish that the slaves held by him in his own right should 
receive their freedom during his life, but he had found that it would 
be attended with insuperable difficulties on account of their inter- 
mixture by marriage with the "dower negroes," whom it was not 
in his power to manumit under the tenure by which they were 
held. With provident benignity he also made provision in his will 
for such as were to receive their freedom under this devise, but 
who, from age, bodily infirmities, or infancy, might be unable to 
support themselves, and he expressly forbade, under any pretense 
whatsoever, the sale or transportation out of Virginia, of any slave 
of whom he might die possessed. Though born and educated a 
slave holder, this was all in consonance with feelings, sentiments 
and principles which he had long entertained. In a letter to Mr. 
John F. Mercer, in September, 1786, he writes, "I never mean, 
unless some particular circumstances should compel me to it, to 
possess another slave by purchase, it being among my first wishes 
to see some plan adopted by which slavery in this country may be 
abohshed by law." And eleven years afterwards, in August, 1797, 
he writes to his nephew, Lawrence Lewis, in a letter which we 
have had in our hands, "I wish from my soul that the legislature 
of this State could see the policy of a gradual abolition of slavery. 
It might prevent much future mischief." 

A deep sorrow spread over the nation on hearing that Washing- 
ton was no more. Congress, which was in session, immediately 
adjourned for the day. The next morning it was resolved that 
the Speaker's chair be shrouded with black: that the members and 
officers of the House wear black during the session, and that a 
joint committee of both Houses be appointed to consider on the 
most suitable manner of doing honor to the memory of the man, 

" FIRST IN WAR, FIRST IN PEACE, AND FIRST IN THE HEARTS OF 
HIS FELLOW-CITIZENS." 

PubHc testimonials of grief and reverence were displayed in 
every part of the Union. Nor were these sentiments confined to 
the United States. When the news of Washington's death reached 
England, Lord Bridport, who had command of a British fleet of 
nearly sixty sail of the line, lying at Torbay, lowered his flag half- 
mast, every ship following the example ; and Bonaparte, First 



626 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Consul of France, on announcing his death to the army, ordered 
that black crape should be suspended from all the standards and 
flags throughout the public service for ten days. 

We have traced the career of Washington from early boyhood to 
his elevation to the presidential chair. It was an elevation he had 
neither sought nor wished ; for when the independence of his country 
was achieved, the modest and cherished desire of his heart had been 
*' to live and die a private citizen on his own farm ; " and he had 
shaped out for himself an ideal elysium in his beloved shades of 
Mount Vernon. But power sought him in his retirement. The 
weight and influence of his name and character were deemed all 
essential to complete his work ; to set the new government in 
motion, and conduct it through its first perils and trials. With 
unfeigned reluctance he complied with the imperative claims of 
his country, and accepted the power thus urged upon him : advanc- 
ing to its exercise with diffidence, and aiming to surround himself 
with men of the highest talent and information whom he might 
consult in emergency; but firm and strong in the resolve in all 
things to act as his conscience told him was "right as it respected 
his God, his country, and himself." For he knew no divided 
fidelity, no separate obligation; his most sacred duty to himself 
was his highest duty to his country and his God. In treating of 
his civil administration we have endeavored to show how truly he 
adhered to this resolve, and with what inflexible integrity and 
scrupulous regard to the public weal he discharged his functions. 
In executing our task, we have not indulged in discussions of 
Jemporary questions of controverted policy which agitated the 
incipient establishment of our government, but have given his 
words and actions as connected with those questions, and as illus- 
trative of his character. We have avoided rhetorical amplification 
and embellishments, and all gratuitous assumptions, and have 
sought by simple and truthful details, to give his character an 
opportunity of developing itself, and of manifesting those fixed 
principles and that noble consistency which reigned afike through- 
out his civil and his military career. 

The character of Washington may want some of those poetical 
elements which dazzle and delight the multitude, but it possessed 
fewer inequalities, and a rarer union of virtues than perhaps ever 
fell to the lot of one man. Prudence, firmness, sagacity, modera- 
tion, an overruling judgment, an immovable justice, courage that 
never faltered, patience that never wearied, truth that disdained 
all artifice, magnanimity without alloy. It seems as if Providence 
had endowed him in a preeminent degree with the qualities requisite 
to fit him for the high destiny he was called upon to fulfil — to con- 
duct a momentous revolution which was to form an era in the his- 
tory of the world, and to inaugurate a new and untried govern- 
ment, which, to use his own words, was to lay the foundation " for 
the enjoyment of much purer civil liberty, and greater public hap- 
piness, than have hitherto been the portion of mankind." 

The fame of Washington stands apart from every other in his- 
tory; shining with a truer lustre and a more benignant glory. 



1799.] TRIBUTES TO HIS CHARACTER. 627 

With us his memory remains a national property, M'here all sym- 
pathies throughout our widely-extended and diversified empire 
meet in unison. Under all dissensions and amid all the storms of 
party, his precepts and example speak to us from the grave with a 
paternal appeal; and his name — by all revered — forms a universal 
tie of brotherhood — a watchword of our Union. '• It will be the 
duty of the historian and the sage of all nations," writes an emi- 
nent British statesman, (Lord Brougham,) "to let no occasion pass 
of commemorating this illustrious man, and until time shall be no 
more, will a test of the progress which our race has made in wis- 
dom and virtue, be derived from the veneration paid to the 

IMMORTAL NAME OF WASHINGTON." 



TUB bnUi 



628 APPENDIX.— LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

WASHINGTON'S FAEEWELL ADDEESS. 

Friends, and Fellow-Citizens: 

The period for a new election of a Citizen, to administer the 
Executive Government of the United States, being not far distant, 
and the time actually arrived, when your thoughts must be 
employed in designating the person, who is to be clothed with that 
important trust, it appears to me proper, especially as it may con- 
duce to a more distinct expression of the public voice, that I should 
now apprise you of the resolution I have formed, to decline being 
considered among the number of those, out of whom a choice is to 
be made. 

I beg you at the same time, to do me the justice to be assured, 
that this resolution has not been taken, without a strict regard to 
all the considerations appertaining to the relation, which binds a 
dutiful citizen to his country — and that, in withdrawing the tender 
of service which silence in my situation might imply, I am influ- 
enced by no diminution of zeal for your future interest, no defic- 
iency of grateful respect for your past kindness ; but am supported 
by a full conviction that the step is compatible with both. 

The acceptance of, and continuance hitherto in, the office to 
which your suffrages have twice called me, have been a uniform 
sacrifice of inclination to the opinion of duty, and to a deference 
for what appeared to be your desire. I constantly hoped, that it 
would have been much earlier in my power, consistently with 
motives which I was not at liberty to disregard, to return to that 
retirement, from which I had been reluctantly drawn. — The 
strength of my inclination to do this, previous to the last election, 
had even led to the preparation of an address to declare it to you ; 
but mature reflection on the then perplexed and critical posture of 
affairs with foreign Nations, and the unanimous advice of persons 
entitled to my confidence impelled me to abandon the idea. 

I rejoice that the state of your concerns, external as well as 
internal, no longer renders the pursuit of inclination incompatible 
with the sentiment of duty, or propriety ; and am persuaded what- 
ever partiality may be retained for my services, that in the present 
circumstances of our country you will not disapprove my determi- 
nation to retire. 

The impressions with which I first undertook the arduous trust, 
were explained on the proper occasion. In the discharge of this 
trust, I will only say that I have, with good intentions, contributed 
towards the organization and administration of the government, the 
best exertions of which a very fallible judgment was capable. Not 
unconscious, in the outset, of the inferiority of my qualifications, 
experience in my own eyes, perhaps still more in the eyes of others, 
has strengthened the motives to diffidence of myself ; and every 
day the increasing weight of years admonishes me more and more, 



FAREWELL ADDRESS. 629 

that the shade of retirement is as necessary to me as it will be wel- 
come. — Satisfied that if any circumstances have given peculiar 
value to my services, they were temporary, I have the consolation 
to beheve, that, while choice and prudence invite me to quit the 
political scene, patriotism does not forbid it. 

In looking forward to the moment, which is intended to termi- 
nate the career of my public hfe, my feehngs do not permit me to 
suspend the deep acknowledgment of that debt of gratitude which 
I owe to my beloved country, — for the many honors it has con- 
ferred upon me ; still more for the steadfast confidence with which 
it has supported me ; and for the opportunities I have thence 
enjoyed of manifesting my inviolable attachment, by services faith- 
ful and persevering, though in usefulness unequal to my zeal. — If 
benefits have resulted to our country from these services, let it 
always be remembered to your praise, and as an instructive exam- 
ple in our annals, that under circumstances in which the Passions, 
agitated in every direction, were liable to mislead, amidst appear- 
ances sometimes dubious, vicissitudes of fortune often discourag- 
ing — in situations in which not unfrequently want of success has 
countenanced the spirit of criticism, the 'constancy of your support 
was the essential prop of the efforts and a guarantee of the plans 
by which they were effected. Profoundly penetrated with this 
idea, I shall carry it with me to the grave, as a strong incitement 
to unceasing vows that Heaven may continue to you the choicest 
tokens of its beneficence — that your union and brotherly affection 
may be perpetual — that the free constitution, which is the Avork of 
your hands, may be sacredly maintained — that its administration 
in every department may be stamped with wisdom and virtue — 
that, in fine, the happiness of the people of these States, under the 
auspices of liberty, may be made complete, by so careful a preser- 
vation and so prudent a use of this blessing as will acquire to them 
the glory of recommending it to the applause, the affection, and 
adoption of every nation which is yet a stranger to it. 

Here, perhaps, I ought to stop. — But a solicitude for your wel- 
fare which cannot end but with my life, and the apprehension of 
danger, natural to that solicitude, urge me, on an occasion like 
the present, to offer to your solemn contemplation, and to recom- 
mend to your frequent review, some sentiments which are the 
result of much reflection, of no inconsiderable observation, and 
which appear to me all important to the permanency of your felic- 
ity as a people. — These will be offered to you with the more free- 
dom, as you can only see in them, the disinterested warnings of a 
departing friend, who can possibly have no personal motive to bias 
his counsels. Nor can I forget, as an encouragement to it, your 
indulgent reception of my sentiments on a former and not dissimi- 
lar occasion. 

Interwoven as is the love of liberty with every ligament of your 
hearts, no recommendation of mine is necessary to fortify or con- 
firm the attachment. 

The Unity of Government which constitutes you one people, is 
also now dear to you. It is justly so ; — for it is a main Pillar in the 



630 APPENDIX.— LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Edifice of your real independence ; the support of your tranquility 
at home ; your peace abroad ; of your safety ; of your prosperity ; 
of that very Liberty which you so highly prize. But, as it is easy 
to forsee, that from different causes, and from different quarters, 
much pains will be taken, many artifices employed, to weaken in 
your minds the conviction of this truth : — as this is the point in 
your political fortress against which the batteries of internal and 
external enemies will be most constantly and actively (though often 
covertly and insidiously) directed, it is of infinite moment, that you 
should properly estimate the immense value of your national Union 
to your collective and individual happiness ; — that you should 
cherish a cordial, habitual, and immovable attachment to it, accus- 
toming yourselves to think and speak of it as of the Palladium of 
your political safety and prosperity ; watching for its preservation 
with jealous anxiety ; discountenancing whatever may suggest 
even a suspicion that it can in any event be abandoned, and indig- 
nantly frowning upon the first dawning of every attempt to alienate 
any portion of our Country from the rest, or to enfeeble the sacred 
ties which now link together the various parts. 

For this you have every inducement of sympathy and interest. — 
Citizens by birth or choice of a common country, that country has 
a right to concentrate your affections. The name of American, 
which belongs to you, in your national capacity, must always exalt 
the just pride of Patriotism, more than any appellation derived 
from local discriminations. With slight shades of difference, you 
have the same Religion, Manners, Habits and political Principles. 
— You have in a common cause fought and triumphed together. The 
Independence and Liberty you possess are the work of joint coun- 
cils and joint efforts — of common dangers, sufferings and suc- 
cesses. 

liut these considerations, however powerfully they address them- 
selves to your sensibility, are greatly outweighed by those which 
apply more immediately to your Interest. Here every portion of 
our country finds the most commanding motives for carefully guard- 
ing and preserving the LTnion of the whole. 

The North in an unrestrained intercourse with the South, pro- 
tected by the equal Laws of a common government, finds in the 
productions of the latter great additional resources of maritime and 
commercial enterprise — and precious materials of manufacturing 
industry. "Y\\q South ; in the same intercourse benefitting by the 
agency of the North, sees its agriculture grow and its commerce 
expand. Turning partly into its own channels the seamen of the 
North, it finds its particular navigation invigorated ; — and while it 
contributes, in different ways, to nourish and increase the general 
mass of the national navigation, it looks forward to the protection 
of a maritime strength to which itself is unequally adapted. The 
East, in a like intercourse with the West, already finds, and in the 
progressive improvement of interior communications, by land and 
water, will more and more find a valuable vent for the commo- 
dities which it brings from abroad, or manufactures at home. — The 
West derives from the East supplies requisite to its growth and 



FAREWELL ADDRESS. 631 

comfort, and what is perhaps of still greater consequence, it must 
of necessity owe the secure enjoyment of indispensable outlets for 
its own productions to the weight, influence, and the future mari- 
time strength of the Atlantic side of the Union, directed by an 
indissoluble community of interests as one Nation. Any other ten- 
ure by which the West can hold this essential advantage, whether 
derived from its own separate strength or from an apostate and 
unnatural connection with any foreign Power, must be intrinsically 
precarious. 

While then, every part of our country thus feels an immediate 
and particular interest in Union, all the parts combined cannot fail 
to find in the united mass of means and efforts greater strength, 
greater resources, propordonably greater security from external 
danger, a less frequent interruption of their peace by foreign Nations; 
and what is of inestimable value, they must derive from Union an 
exemption from those broils and wars between themselves, which 
so frequently afflict neighboring countries, not tied together by the 
same government ; which their own rivalships alone would be 
sufficient to produce ; but which opposite foreign alliances, attach- 
ments and intrigues would stimulate and embitter. — Hence hkewise 
they will avoid the necessity of those overgrown Military establish- 
ments, which under any form of Government are inauspicious to 
liberty, and which are to be regarded as particularly hostile to 
Republican Liberty : In this sense it is, that your Union ought to 
be considered as a main prop of your liberty, and that the love of 
the one ought to endear to you the preservation of the other. 

These consider?i.tions speak a persuasive language to every reflect- 
ing and virtuous mind, — and exhibit the continuance of the Union 
as a primary object of Patriotic desire. — Is there a doubt, whether 
a common government can embrace so large a sphere ? Let ex- 
perience solve it. — To listen to mere speculation in such a case 
were criminal. We are authorized to hope that a proper organiza- 
tion of the whole, with the auxiliary agency of governments for the 
respective subdivisions, will afford a happy issue to the experiment. 
'Tis well worth a fair and full experiment. With such powerful 
and obvious motives to Union, affecting all parts of our country, 
while experience shall not have demonstrated its impracticability, 
there will always be reason to distrust the patriotism of those, who 
in any quarter may endeavor to weaken its bands. 

In contemplating the causes which may disturb our Union, it oc- 
curs as matters of serious concern, that any ground should have 
been furnished for characterizing parties by Geof^raphical discrim- 
inations — Northern and Southern — Atlantic a.nd IVestern ; whence 
designing men may endeavor to excite a belief that there is a real 
difference of local interests and views. One of the expedients of 
Party to acquire influence, within particular districts, is to misrepre- 
sent the opinions and aims of other districts. You cannot shield 
yourselves too much against the jealousies and heartburnings vyhich 
spring from these misrepresentations. They tend to render alien to 
each other those who ought to be bound together by fraternal 
affection. The inhabitants of our Western country have lately 



632 APPENDIX.— LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

had a useful lesson on this head. They have seen, in the negotia- 
tion by the Executive, and in the unanimous ratification by the 
Senate, of the Treaty with Spain, and in the universal satisfaction 
at that event, throughout the United States, a decisive proof how 
unfounded were the suspicions propagated among them of a policy 
in the General Government and in the Atlantic {States unfriendly to 
their interests in regard to the Mississippi. They have been wit- 
nesses to the formation of two Treaties, that with Great Britain, and 
that with Spain, which secure to them every thing they could 
desire, in respect to our foreign relations, towards confirming their 
prosperity. Will it not be their wisdom to rely for the preservation 
of these advantages on the Union by which they u ere procured ? 
Will they not henceforth be deaf to those advisers, if such there 
are, who would sever them from their Brethren, and connect them 
with Aliens ? 

To the efficacy and permanency of your Union, a Government 
for the whole is indispensable. No alliances however strict, be- 
tween the parts, can be an adequate substitute. They must inevit- 
ably experience the infractions and interruptions which all alliances 
in all times have experienced. Sensible of this momentous truth, 
you have improved upon your first essay, by the adoption of a Con- 
stitution of Government, better calculated than your former for an 
intimate Union, and for the efficacious management of your com- 
mon concerns. This government, the offspring of our own choice, 
uninfluenced and unawed, adopted upon full investigation and 
mature deliberation, completely free in its principles, in the dis- 
tribution of its powers, uniting security with energy, and containing 
within itself a provision for its own amendment, has a just claim to 
your confidence and your support. Respect for its authority, 
compliance with its Laws, acquiesence in its measures, are duties 
enjoined by the fundamental maxims of true Liberty. The basis 
of our political systems is the right of the people to make and to 
alter their Constitutions of Government. But the Constitution 
which at any time exists, 'till changed by an exphcit and authentic 
act of the whole People, is sacredly obligatory upon all. The very 
idea of the power and the right of the People to established Gov- 
ernment, presupposes the duty of every individual to obey the 
established Government. 

All obstructions to the execution of the Laws, all combinations 
and associations, under whatever plausible character, with the real 
design to direct, control, counteract, or awe the regular delibera- 
tion and action of the constituted authorities, are destructive of 
this fundamental principle, and of fatal tendency. They serve to 
organize faction, to give it an artificial and extraordinary force — to 
put, in the place of the delegated will of the Nation, the will of a 
party; — often a small but artful and enterprising minority of the 
community; — and, according to the alternate triumphs of different 
parties, to make the pubhc administration the mirror of the ill-con- 
certed and incongruous projects of faction, rather than the organ 
of consistent and wholesome plans, digested by common councils 
and modified by mutual interest. However combinations or asso- 



FAREWELL ADDRESS, 633 

ciations of the above description may now and then answer popular 
ends, they are likely, in the course of time and things, to become 
potent engines, by which cunning, ambitious and unprincipled men 
will be enabled to subvert the power of the People, and to usurp 
for themselves the reins of Government ; destroying afterwards the 
very engines which have hfted them to unjust dominion. 

Towards the preservation of your Government and the perman- 
ency of your present happy state, it is requisite, not only that you 
steadily discountenance irregular opposiuon to its acknoAvledged 
authority, but also that you resist with care the spirit of innovation 
upon its principles, however specious the pretexts. One method of 
assault may be to effect, in the forms of the Constitution, altera- 
tions which will impair the energy of the system, and thus to under- 
mine what cannot be directly overthrown. In all the changes to 
which you may be invited, remember that time and habit are at 
least as necessary to fix the true character of Governments, as of 
other human institutions — that experience is the surest standard, 
by which to test the real tendency of the existing Constitution of a 
Country — that facility in changes upon the credit of mere hypoth- 
esis and opinion exposes to perpetual change, from the endless 
variety of hypothesis and opinion : — and remember, especially, that 
for the efficient management of your common interests in a country 
so extensive as ours, a Government of as much vigor as is con- 
sistent with the perfect security of Liberty is indispensable. — Lib- 
erty itself will find in such a Government, with powers properly 
distributed and adjusted, its surest guardian. It is indeed little 
else than a name, where the Government is too feeble to withstand 
the enterprises of faction, to confine each member of the Society 
within the limits prescribed by the laws, and to maintain all in 
the secure and tranquil enjoyment of the rights of person and 
property. 

1 have already intimated to you the danger of Parties in the 
State, with particular reference to the founding of them on Geo- 
graphical discriminations. Let me now take a more comprehensive 
view, and warn you in the most solemn manner against the bane- 
ful effects of the spirit of Party, generally. 

This Spirit, unfortunately, is inseparable from our nature, having 
its root in the strongest passions of the human mind. It exists 
under different shapes in all governments, more or less stifled, con- 
trolled or repressed ; but in those of the popular form it is seen in 
its greatest rankness, and is truly their worst enemy. 

The alternate domination of one faction over another, sharpened 
by the spirit of revenge natural to party dissension, which in differ- 
rent ages and countries has perpetrated the most horrid enormities, 
is itself a frightful despotism. But this leads at length to a more 
formal and permanent despotism. The disorders and miseries, 
which result, gradually inchne the minds of men to seek security 
and repose in the absolute power of an Individual : and sooner or 
later the chief of some prevailing faction, more able or more fortu- 
nate than his competitors, turns this disposition to the purposes of 
his own elevation, on the ruins of Public Liberty. 



634 APPENDJX.—LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

Without looking forward to an extremity of this kind, (which 
nevertheless ought not to be entirely out of sight), the common and 
continual mischiefs of the spirit of Party are sufficient to make it 
the interest and the duty of a wise People tc discourage and restrain 
it. It serves always to distract the Public Councils and enfeeble 
the Public administration. It agitates the community with ill- 
founded jealousies and false alarms, kindles the animosity of one 
part against another, foments occasionally riot and insurrection. It 
opens the door to foreign influence and corruption, which find a 
faciliated access to the Government itself through the channels of 
party passions. Thus, the policy and the will of one country, are 
subjected to the policy and will of another. 

There is an opinion that parties in free countries are useful checks 
upon the Administration of the Government, and serve to keep 
alive the Spirit of Liberty. This within certain limits is probably 
true — and in Governments of a Monarchical cast. Patriotism may- 
look with indulgence, if not with favor, upon the spirit of party. 
But in those of the popular character, in Governments purely 
elective, it is a spirit not to be encouraged. From their natural 
tendency, it is certain there will always be enough of that spirit for 
every salutary purpose, — and there being constant danger of excess, 
the effort ought to be, by force of public opinion, to mitigate and 
assuage it, A fire not to be quenched ; it demands a uniform 
vigilance to prevent its bursting into a flame, lest, instead of wann- 
ing, it should consume. 

It is important, likewise, that the habits of thinking in a free 
country should inspire caution in those entrusted with its adminis- 
tration, to confine themselves within their respective constitutional 
spheres ; avoiding in the exercise of the powers of one department 
to encroach upon another. The spirit of encroachment tends to 
consolidate the powers of all the departments in one, and thus to 
create, whatever the form of government, a real despotism. A 
just estimate of that love of power, and proneness to abuse it, 
•which predominates in the human heart, is sufficient to satisfy us 
of the truth of this position. The necessity of reciprocal checks in 
the exercise of political power, by dividing and distributing it into 
different depositories, and constituting each the Guardian of the 
Public Weal against invasions by the others, has been evinced by 
experiments ancient and modern ; some of them in our country 
and under our own eyes. To preserve them must be as necessary 
as to institute them. If in the opinion of the People, the distribu- 
tion or modification of the Constitutional powers be in any particu- 
lar wTong, let it be corrected by an amendment in the way which 
the Constitution designates. But let there be no change by usur- 
pation ; for though this, in one instance, may be the instrument of 
good, it is the customary weapon by which free governments are 
destroyed. The precedent must always greatly overbalance in 
permanent evil any partial or transient benefit which the use can 
at any time yield. 

Of all the dispositions and habits which lead to political prosper- 
ity, Religion and morality are indispensable supports. In vain 



FAREWELL ADDRESS. 



63s 



would that man claim the tribute of Patriotism, who should labor 
to subvert these great Pillars of human happiness, these firmest 
props of the duties of Men and Citizens. The mere Politician, 
equally with the pious man, ought to respect and to cherish them! 
A volume could not trace all their connections with private and 
pubhc felicity. Let it simply be asked where is the security for 
property, for reputation, for life, if the sense of religious obligation 
desert the oaths, which are the instruments of investigation in 
Courts of Justice ? And let us with caution indulge the supposition, 
that morality can be maintained w^ithout religion. Whatever may 
be conceded to the influence of refined education on minds of 
peculiar structure — reason and experience both forbid us to expect 
that national morality can prevail in exclusion of religious principle. 
It is substantially true that virtue or morality is a necessary spring 
of popular government. The rule indeed extends with more or less 
force to every species of Free Government. Who that is a sincere 
friend to it, can look with indifference upon attempts to shake the 
foundation of the fabric ? 

Promote then as an object of primary importance, institutions for 
the general diffusion of knowledge. In proportion as the structure 
of a government gives force to public opinion, it is essential that 
public opinion should be enlightened. 

As a very important source of strength and security, cherish 
public credit. One method of preserving it is to use it as sparingly 
as possible: — avoiding occasions of expense by cultivating peace, 
but remembering also that timely disbursements to prepare for 
danger frequently prevent much greater disbursements to repel it — ■ 
avoiding likewise the accumulation of debt, not only by shunning 
occasions of expense, but by vigorous exertions in time of Peace to 
discharge the debts which unavoidable wars may have occasioned, 
not ungenerously throwing upon posterity the burthen which we 
ourselves ought to bear. The execution of these maxims belongs 
to your Representatives, but it is necessary that public opinion 
should cooperate. To facilitate to them the performance of their 
duty, it is essential that you should practically bear in mind, that 
towards the payment of debts there must be Revenue — that to have 
Revenue there must be taxes — that no t«ces can be devised which 
are not more or less inconvenient and unpleasant — that the intrinsic 
embarrassment inseparable from the selection of the proper objects 
(which is always a choice of difficulties) ought to be a decisive 
motive for a candid construction of the conduct of the Govern- 
ment in making it, and for a spirit of acquiescence in the measures 
for obtaining Revenue which the public exigences may at any time 
dictate. 

Observe good faith and justice towards all Nations. Cultivate 
peace and harmony with all. Religion and morality enjoin this 
conduct ; and can it be that good policy does not equally enjoin 
it? It will be worthy of a free, enlightened, and, at no distant 
period, a great nation, to give to mankind a magnanimous and too 
novel example of a People always guided by an exalted justice and 
benevolence. Who can doubt that in the course of time and 



636 APPENDIX.— LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

things, the fruits of such a plan would richly repay any temporary 
advantages which might be lost by a steady adherence to it? Can 
it be, that Providence has not connected the permanent felicity of 
a Nation with its virtue? The experiment, at least, is recom- 
mended by every sentiment which ennobles human nature. Alas ! 
is it rendered impossible by its vices ? 

In the execution of such a plan nothing is more essential than 
that permanent, inveterate antipathies against particular nations 
and passionate attachments for others should be excluded ; and 
that in place of them just and amicable feehngs towards all should 
be cultivated. The Nation, which indulges towards another an 
habitual hatred or an habitual fondness, is in some degree a slave. 
It is a slave to its animosity or to its affecdon, either of which is 
sufficient to lead it astray from its duty and its interests, Antipa- 
thy in one nation against another disposes each more readily to 
offer insult to injury, to lay hold of slight causes of umbrage, and 
to be haughty and intractable, when accidental or trifling occasions 
of dispute occur. Hence frequent collisions, obstinate, envenomed 
and bloody contests. The Nation prompted by ill-will and resent- 
ment sometimes impels to War the Government, contrary to the 
best calculations of policy. The Government sometimes partici- 
pates in the national propensity, and adopts through passion what 
reason would reject ; — at otlter tmies, it makes the animosity of the 
Nation subservient to projects of hostility instigated by pride, 
ambition, and other sinister and pernicious motives. The peace 
often, someUmes perhaps the Liberty, of Nations has been the 
victim. So likewise a passionate attachment of one Nadon for 
another produces a variety of evils. Sympathy for the favorite 
nation, facihtating the illusion of an imaginary common interest in 
cases where no real common interest exists, and infusing into one 
the enmities of the other, betrays the former into a participation in 
the quarrels and wars of the latter, without adequate inducement 
or justification : It leads also to concessions to the favorite Nation 
of privileges denied to others, which is apt doubly to injure the 
Nation making the concessions ; by unnecessarily parting with 
what ought to be retained, and by exciting jealousy, ill-will, and a 
disposition to retaliate i% the parties from whom equal privileges 
are withheld ; and it gives to ambitious, corrupted, or deluded cid- 
zens who devote themselves to the favorite Nation, facility to 
betray, or sacrifice the interests of their own country without 
odium, sometimes even with popularity : — gilding with the appear- 
ances of a virtuous sense of obligation, a commendable deference 
for public opinion, or a laudable zeal for public good, the base or 
foolish compliances of ambition, corruption or infatuation. As 
avenues to foreign influence in innumerable ways, such attach- 
ments are particularly alarming to the truly enlightened and inde- 
pendent patriot. How many opportunities do they afford to tam- 
per with domestic facdons, to pracdce the arts of seducdon, to 
mislead public opinion, to influence or awe the public councils 1 
Such an attachment of a small or weak, towards a powerful nation, 
dooms the former to be the satellite of the latter. 



FAREWELL ADDRESS. 637 

Against the insidious wiles of foreign i»fliTence, I conjure you ta 
believe me, fellow citizens, the jealousy of a free people ought to be 
constantly awake, since history and experience prove that foreign 
influence is one of the most baneful foes of Republican Govern- 
ment. 13ut that jealousy to be useful must be impartial ; else it 
becomes the instrument of the very influence to be avoided, instead 
of a defence against it. Excessive partiality for one foreign nation 
and excessive dislike of another, cause those whom they actuate to 
see danger only on one side, and to serve to veil and even second 
the arts of influence on the other. Real Patriots, who may resist 
the intrigues of the favorite, are hable to become suspected and 
odious ; while its tools and dupes usurp the applause and confidence 
of the people, to surrender their interests. The great rule of con- 
duct for us, in regard to foreign Nations is, in extending our com- 
mercial relations, to have with them as little /'(?////r«/ connection as 
possible. So far as we have already formed engagements let them' 
be fufilled with perfect good faith. Here let us stop. 

Europe has a set of primary interests, which to us have none, or 
a very remote relation. — Hence she must be engaged in frequent 
controversies, the causes of which are essentially foreign to our 
concerns. Hence therefore it must be unwise in us to implicate our- 
selves by artificial ties, in the ordinary vicissitudes of her politics, 
or the ordinary combinations and collisions of her friendships, or 
enmities. Our detached and distant situation invites and enables us 
to pursue a different course. If we remain one People, under an 
efficient government, the period is not far off, when we may defy 
material injury from external annoyance; when we may take such 
an attitude as will cause the neutrality we may at any time resolve 
upon to be scrupulously respected. When belligerent nations, 
under the impossibility of making acquisitions upon us, will not 
lightly hazard the giving us provocation ; when we may choose 
peace or war,as our interest guided by justice shall counsef. 

Why forego the advantages of so peculiar a situation ? Why quit 
our own to stand upon foreign ground ? Why, by interweaving 
our destiny with that of any part of Europe, entangle our peace 
and prosperity in the toils of European ambition, rivalship, interest, 
1-umor or caprice ? 'Tis our true poHcy to steer clear of permanent 
alliances with any portion of the foreign world ; — so fa'r, I mean, 
as we are now at liberty to do it — for let me not be understood as 
capable of patronizing infidelity to existing engagements. I hold 
the maxim no less applicable to public than to private affairs that 
honesty is always the best policy. I repeat it therefore, let those 
engagements be observed in their genuine sense. But in my 
opinion it is unnecessary and would be unwise to extend them. ^ 

Taking care always to keep ourselves, by suitable establish- 
ments, on a respectably defensive posture, we may safely trust to 
temporary £illiances for extraordinary emergencies. 

Harmony, liberal intercourse with all nations, are recommended 
by policy, humanity and interest. But even our commercial policy 
should hold an equal and impartial hand :— neither seeking nor 
granting exclusive favors or preferences ;— consulting the natural 



638 APPEND IX.—LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

course of things ; — diffusing and diversifying by gentle means the 
streams of commerce, but forcing nothing; — establishing with 
powers so disposed — in order to give to trade a stable course, to 
define the rights of our Merchants and to enable the government 
to support them — conventional rules of intercourse, the best that 
present circumstances and mutual opinion will permit ; but tem- 
porary, and liable to be from time to time abandoned or varied, as 
experience and circumstances shall dictate ; constantly keeping in 
view, that 'tis folly in one nation to look for disinterested favors 
from another, — that it must pay with a portion of its independence 
for whatever it may accept under that character — that by such 
acceptance, it may place itself in the condition of having given 
equivalents for nominal favors and yet of being reproached with 
ingratitude for not giving more. There can be no greater error 
than to expect, or calculate upon real favors from Nation to Nation. 
'Tis an illusion which experience must cure, which a just pride 
ought to discard. 

in offering to you, my Countrymen, these counsels of an old and 
affectionate friend, I dare not hope that they will make the strong 
and lasting impression, I could wish; that they will control the usual 
current of the passions, or prevent our Nation from running the 
course which has hitherto marked the destiny of Nations. But if 
I may even flatter myself, that they may be productive of some 
partial benefit ; some occasional good ; that they may now and 
then recur to moderate the fury of party spirit, to warn against the 
mischiefs of foreign intrigue, to guard agajnst the impostures of 
pretended patriotism, this hope will be a full recompense for the 
solicitude for your welfare, by which they have been dictated. 

How far in the discharge of my official duties, I have been 
guided by the principles whidi have been delineated, the public 
Records and other evidences of my conduct must witness to You, 
and to the World. To myself, the assurance of my own conscience 
is, that I have at least believed myself to be guided by them. 

In relation to the still subsisting War in Europe, my Proclamation 
of the 22d of April, 1793, is the index to my plan. Sanctioned by 
your approving voice and by that of your Representatives in both 
Houses of Congress, the spirit of that measure has continually 
governed me : — uninfluenced by any attempts to deter or divert 
me from it. After deliberate examination with the aid of the best 
lights I could obtain, I was well satisfied that our country, under 
all the circumstances of the case, had a right to take, and was 
bound in duty and interest, to take a Neutral position. Having 
taken it, I determined, as far as should depend upon me, to 
maintain it, with moderation, perseverance and firmness. 

The considerations which respect the right to hold this conduct, 
it is not necessary on this occasion to detail. I will only observe, 
that according to my understanding of the matter, that right, so far 
from being denied by any of the Belligerent Powers, has been 
virtually admitted by all. The duty of holding a neutral conduct 
may be inferred, without anything more, from the obhgation which 
justice and humanity impose on every Nation, in cases in which it 



FAREWELL ADDRESS. 639 

is free to act, to maintain inviolate the relations of Peace and 
Amity towards other Nations. The inducements of interest for 
observing that conduct will best be referred to your own reflections 
and experience. With me, a predominant motive has been to 
endeavor to gain time to our country to settle and mature its yet 
recent institutions, and to progress without interruption to that 
degree of strength and consistency, which is necessary to give it, 
numanly speaking, the command of its own fortunes. 

Though in reviewing the incidents of my Administration, I am 
unconscious of intentional error, I am nevertheless too sensible of 
my defects not to think it probable that I may have committed 
many errors. Whatever they may be, I fervently beseech the 
Almighty to avert or mitigate the evils to which they may tend. I 
shall also carry with me the hope that my country will never cease 
to view them with indulgence ; and that after forty-five years of 
my life dedicated to its service, with an upright zeal, the faults of 
incompetent abilities will be consigned to oblivion, as myself must 
soon be to the mansion of rest. 

Relying on its kindness in this as in other things, and actuated 
by tliat fervent love towards it, which is so natural to a man, who 
views in it the native soil of himself and his progenitors for several 
generations ; I anticipate with pleasing expectation that retreat, in 
which I promise myself to realize, without alloy, the sweet enjoy- 
ment of partaking, in the midst of my fellow citizens, the benign 
influence of good Laws under a free Government, — the ever favorite 
object of my heart, and the happy reward, as I trust, of our mutual 
cares, labors and dangers. George Washington. 



United States, 
igth September^ 



1 1796. 



II. 

SPEECH OF JOHN MARSHALL IN THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES, 
AND RESOLUTIONS ADOPTED BY THE HOUSE, DEC. I9TH, 1 799. 

Mr. Speaker : The melancholy event, which was yesterday an- 
nounced with doubt, has been rendered but too certain. Our 
Washington is no more ! The hero, the patriot, and the sage of 
America ; the man on whom in times of danger every eye was 
turned, and all hopes were placed, lives now only in his own great 
actions, and in the hearts of an affectionate and afflicted people. 

If, Sir, it had even not been usual openly to testify respect for 
the memory of those whom heaven has selected as its instruments' 
for dispensing good to man, yet such has been the uncommon 
worth, and such the extraordinary incidents, which have marked 
the hfe of him whose loss we all deplore, that the whole American 
nation, impelled by the same feelings, would call with one voice 
for a pubUc manifestation of that sorrow, which is so deep and so 
universal. 

More than any other individual, and as much as to one indi- 
vidual was possible, has he contributed to found this our wide- 



640 APPENDIX.—LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

spreading empire, and to give to the western world independence 
and freedom. 

Having effected the great object for which he was placed at the 
head of our armies, we have seen him convert the sword into the 
ploughshare, and sink the soldier in the citizen. 

When the debility of our federal system had become man if est. and the bonds 
wliich connected this vast coathient were dissolving, we have seen him the 
chief of those patriots who formed forns a constitution, which, by preserving 
tiie union, will, I trust, substantiate and perpetuate those blessings which our 
Revolution had promised to bestow. 

In obedience to tiie general voice of his country, calling him to preside over 
a great people, we have seen him once more quit the retirement he loved, and, 
in a season more stormy and tempestuous than war Itself, with calm and wise 
determination pursue the true interests of the nation, and contribute, more 
than any other could contribute, to the establishment oi that system ot policy, 
which will, I trust, yet preserve our peace, our honor, and our independence. 

Having been t\vice unanimously chosen the chief magistrate of a free 
people, we have seen him, at a time when his reelection with universal suf- 
frage could not be doubted, afford to the world a rare instance of moderation 
by withdrawing from his station to the peaceful walks of private lite. 

However the public confidence may change, and public alTections fluctuate 
with respect to otliers, with respect to him they have. In war and in peace, in 
public and in private life, been as steady as "his own firm miud, and as con- 
stant as his own exalted virtues. 

Let us tlien, Mr. Speaker, pay the last tribute of respect and affection to obr 
departed friend. Letthe grand council of the nation display those sentiments 
wliich the nation feels. >or this purpose I hold in my hand some resolutions, 
which I take the liberty of offering to the House. 

Resolved, That this House will wait on the Fresident.in condolence of this 
mournful event. 

Resolvedy Tliat the Speaker's chair be shrouded with black, and that the 
members and officers of the House wear black during the session. 

Resolved, That a connnittee, in conjunction with one from the Senate, be 
appointed to consider on the most suitable manner of paying honor to the 
memory of the man, first in war, first in peace, and first in tse hearts 

OF HIS FELLOW-CITIZENS. 



LETTER FROK THE SENATE TO THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES. 

23 December, 1799. 

Sir : Tlie Senate of the United States respectfully take leave to express to 
you their deep regret for tlie loss their country sustains in the death of Gen- 
eral George Washington. 

This event, so distressing to all our fellow-citizens, must be peculiarly 
heavy to you, who have long been associated with him in deeds of patriotism. 
Permit us, Sir, to mingle our tears with yours. On this occasion it is manly 
to weep. To lose such a man, at such a crisis, is no commf)n calamity to the 
world. Our country mourns a father. The Almighty Disposer of humau 
events has taken fi»om us our greatest benefactor and ornament. It becomes 
us to submit with reverence to him "who maketh darkness his pavilion." 

With patriotic pride we review the life of our Washington, and compare him 
with those of other countries who have been pre-eminent in fame. Ancient 
and modern times are diminished before him. Greatness and guilt have too 
often been allied ; but his fame is whiter than it is brilliant. The destroyers 
of nations stood abashed at the majesty of his virtues. It reproved the intem- 
perance of their ambition, and darkened the splendor of victory. The scene 
IS closed and we are no longer anxious lest misfortune should sully his glory; 
he has travelled on to the end of his journey, and carried with him an increas- 
ing weight of honor; he has deposited it safely, where misfortune cannot 
tarnish it, wliere malice cannot blast it. Favored of Heaven, he departed 
Avithout exhibiting the weakness of humanity. Magnanimous in death, the 
darkness of the grave could not obscure his brightness. 

Suoh was the man whom we deplore. Thanksto Cod, his glory is consum- 
mated. Washington yet lives on earth in his spotless example ; his spirit is in 
Heaven. 

Let his countrymen consecrate the memory of the heroic general, the 
patriotic statesman, and the virtuous sage. Let them teach their children 
never to forget, that the fruits of his labors and his example are their 
inheritance. 



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